Red in Tooth and Claw
by MrTicklepaws
Summary: What's that? Another Apoca'verse fic? Aww yeah. It's time for some spy games. I bet a reserved guy like Worth is great at those. If you haven't yet, go read Desdemona's awesome Hann'Apocalypse fics. They are magical and wonderful, and she is amazingly generous to let me write canon silliness up in her timeline. Total of 3 chapters. My first multi-chaptered fic on here!
1. Chapter 1

"Soooooooooo," Hanna exited the bathroom looking worn and grinning sheepishly, "who's up for another road trip?" He stumbled slightly and the zombie was there in an instant, catching the pale man and helping him the rest of the way to the lower bunk bed in the room.

Hotels weren't quite what they used to be. Travel was a bit more common, though, and had been increasing as trade routes were slowly being established between various settlements. As it was, given Hanna's rank within the new world organization, they had come to know that hotels these days were typically spare rooms in oversized houses or sometimes an entire unit in an apartment building. Worth sort of preferred the apartments, especially when they contained remnants of their former occupants. He'd found a pair of jeans that actually fit in this one. His other pairs were becoming so worn they were more fixative stitches than actual fabric. One time he had found a sex swing and he insisted Conrad try it out. Conrad had insisted Worth go fuck himself. It had been a fairly relaxing evening.

Currently Worth was sitting in a wooden chair, feet propped up on a child sized desk. He barely fit in the chair, but he wasn't about to sit in a fucking bean bag chair. Conrad was still half asleep on the upper bunk bed and peered down from over the edge, pouting about having to wake up and join the rest of the world or how awful his behead must be or something. He might be hungry, though. Worth did some quick calculations, trying to figure out if he could spare another bit of blood. Maybe if he got some hits of orange juice afterwards, but where the hell was he going to get orange juice? They were in the midwest, not Florida. Also, fuck Florida. He didn't even want orange juice anymore.

"Where are we going now?" Muttered the vampire, blanket still drooping over the top of his head. "I thought we were staying here for a week to source some parts for the RV."

The ginger grimaced, eyes closing as his head hit the pillow. "No can do, Con-my-man. Gonna miss the bunking. I was hoping we'd tell each other ghost stories before sleeping. You know, like a sleepover? Only better 'cause we could make all the noise we wanted?"

"Don't think ghost stories really work when yer sleepover happens after sun-up," Worth groused, barely keeping from tipping over in his long, backwards lean in the too small chair. "Course, wotshisname's already got th' glowin' eyes goin fer story time. Don't need no flashlight or nothin'. G'on," he waved a hand in the general direction of the bed. "Weave us a story. Give us a good scare."

The zombie stared. "I suppose I could recount the last book I read."

"Yeah? Go fer it. Rather hear that than wot shortstack's gonna tell us, anyway." Worth pulled a pocketknife free, using the tip of blade to scrape at dirt beneath his short nails.

"Very well." He took a breath, dry fingers lacking their usual leather covers sliding over Hanna's curls. "Alejandro was a stable boy, excellent with his charges. Strong, yet gentle, and he yearned to one day breed his own line of champion Andalusians. He chafed at the poor breeding practices his employer used, and despised how he treated his steeds. However, even more he was filled with resentment over how the farm's owner treated his beautiful daughter."

A weary groan from sleeping beauty. "Oh God, no. Not another romance novel. Just stop. Stop now."

"Naw, this is where it gets ta th' good part, heavin' bosoms 'n' all. Keep goin'."

"It is really weird listening to girlporn surrounded by dudes while getting my head stroked."

Tall forehead wrinkled as eyebrows raised, eyes still set on his blade. "Depends on which head's gettin' stroked."

Conrad immediately began to fight with the blankets, attempting to free himself. "No. That's it. I'm leaving. If you're continuing this, I am done. I am not participating."

"There is sword fighting, if it helps, Conrad."

The violent struggle paused. "I suppose that's not so bad. Maybe if you just focus on that part?"

"I can. Alejandro's main competition for the affections of Esperanza was the neighboring landowner's son, Lope. Lope had little care for horses, and poured all his energies into hunting and drinking. He was especially fond of fencing, and bore a scar across his cheek from a hard won duel in his formative years."

"Are there pirates? Fencing and swordfighting usually means pirates."

"I am sorry, Hanna, no. No pirates." Smiling gently at Hanna's groan of disappointment, he continued, shifting slightly where he sat on the bed to allow Hanna a bit more room. "As one might expect, Alejandro and Lope were bound to fight for the love of Esperanza and so one night they met on the beach, intending to duel at sunset. They drew swords and fought in the ocean spray until both were exhausted. They looked upon one another with a new found respect and admiration. Soon after their swords entangled again and they writhed in the foam of the sea."

"Whoa, uh, their what did what and they what?"

"Their swords...oh...I see." Above Hanna, Conrad let out a strangled, frustrated howl, and in the chair, Worth's head fell back as he laughed. "Hmm...Yes, I had wondered if that scene may have been a series of euphemisms."

"Leave it ter Connie. Jus' loves a story wit' swords rubbin' together."

"Done. No. Done." He dropped from the top bunk, landing haphazardly on the beanbag chair, and stalked out of the room.

"Right, well, since Connie's gone off ta get a li'l privacy-"

From the hall, the vampire shouted "I"m not, fuck you."

Worth continued, "might as well let us know wot yer gab fest with th' local chieftans was about."

"Yeaaaaaaaaah about that, why don't they like, wait for me to finish? I am developing a serious neurosis when it comes to taking twosies in an actual bathroom these days."

"Ya light a match afterwards?"

"What? Oh, no, I mean, it's not like they can smell anything and the mirror was _next_ to the toilet rather than across from it and, dude, for real, who the hell wants to watch themselves take a dump? Who puts a mirror across from a toilet? Anyhoozits, they need us to go play spy games. Ugh, man, I always get worn right the hell out when I'm in an unshielded room. Crystal ball scrying. Why can't we do it that way? Why is it always bathroom mirrors?"

Initially Worth felt a prickling of interest and closed the pocket knife. Spies often meant danger, booze, and cheap, double crossing women. As far as that went, he was more than down. Then again, that was the romantic version of spies. Real spies were 40 year old alcoholic men with paunches and receding hairlines working for computer companies, secretly siphoning off company information about upcoming projects to guys in China. At least both versions probably had booze, and Worth doubted he'd need to learn Mandarin for this case. "And?"

"Huhwha? Oh uh, yeah so there's kinda sorta maybe a group that doesn't like the humans so much? You know how there were a bunch before the treaty saying the time of man is over and now it is the time of the supernatural? Well, it's not like those feelings went away so much as just kinda scattered. But it's been a few years and they've been reforming with structure. So council bros sent some people in to the various groups. One of the special operatives, how cool does that sound? Totally cool, am I right? So their special operative went dark. Also, very cool. Going dark. Haven't heard in two weeks. Worried. So we get to go in there and either save them or uh...well if they defected...we um..." Hanna struggled with the words, eyebrows knitting together above his upturned nose. He took a breath. "We'll go in and save them."

"If they defected?" Conrad was leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, hair wet and slicked back.

"We, um, kinda are supposed to," He shrugged, sounding defeated, "y''know."

"Off 'em." Worth supplied.

Hanna's silence and the dry creaking of the zombie's ribs as he sighed were enough of a confirmation for the doctor.

XXXXX

Fortunately, with a little extra tinkering, the camper grudgingly coughed its way back onto the highways forming the veins and arteries of the Mostly United States of What Used To Be America.

"United Territories, maybe?" Hanna asked, pencil slowly disappearing as he gnawed on the end.

Worth's eyes looked up and to the side, staring at the reflection of himself and Conrad's floating shirt sleeve, painted in blurred light against the dusty inside of the passenger's side window. "Why not call it Those Living By Council Whim?"

"That sounded...like nearly proper English." Now on a clear stretch of road, Conrad shifted to a higher gear and flattened the gas pedal. The camper jerked and rocketed ahead. "I'm not sure if I should be proud of you or checking for a temperature."

"Wotever."

"Ah, that's more like it."

Teeth continued their work on the pencil, eyes narrowed in concentration. "We aren't living by council whim, bro. They have an agreement and alliance. Humans didn't get out of it too badly, really. I mean, it helps that the Seelie Court members of the council feel like they kinda owe us for helping out back in Salem. Oh, and that dragon thing. Big ups to us for that one. King me!"

The zombie rumbled much like the RV and placed a black checker on top of the one Hanna had managed to drive all the way to the back of the checker board. "Well done, Hanna. I had not expected that move."

"I am unpredictable and exciting! I live a life of danger and intrigue!"

"An' ya drag us all along kickin' 'n' screamin'. Thanks," Worth grumbled.

Hanna scribbled on a piece of paper while the zombie considered his next move. "You don't scream, bro. You do kick, though, and, seriously? Not so hard next time? I had a lump on my shin for like, a week."

"I'll kick ya when ya deserve it. 's called tough love."

A snort from the driver. "I think that's called _abuse_, Worth."

"Wow, you two must _reaaaaaaaaally_ like to abuse each other then. Like, tons. I guess that works for Worth but I never thought you were the type, Conman."

Worth wondered how fast the zombie would move if he stood up now and just happened to smack the ginger upside the head as he moseyed his way to the back of the camper. Probably fairly fast. Might make for an interesting experiment in the future. He would have to try and find a stopwatch in the next town they stopped at. "Connie can't help it," he replied, hands folding themselves across his stomach, "poor bugger can't keep his hands offa me."

"You know, I'll agree with you, Worth."

There was silence in the camper and the doctor stared at Conrad from the corner of his eye, breath suddenly slow. "Yeah?"

"Yes," a downshift as they neared a formerly large city and needed to take an exit to work their way around the rusting metal skeletons of a long forgotten traffic jam. "Simply change "hands" to "fists" and I think we're good."

He settled more deeply into the seat, feeling the corners of his mouth creasing as he scowled. "Pretty sure yer inta chokin' me. That don't require fists, that requires hands. Original argument stands."

"Whatever."

"King me!"

XXXXX

Nearly at their destination, with the sun bright and stinging on their faces, they pulled over for Hanna to work some cloaking spells. Worth took the opportunity to stretch his legs and empty his bladder. Conrad had retired to the back of the camper hours earlier and Worth had been bored ever since. The zombie was an okay driver, but far too careful. No last minute swerves onto country roads, no breakneck speed. It was like Driving Miss Daisy, but Worth worried if he started calling Hanna by an even girlier name than the one he was given, Conrad might get jealous.

The tiny monster in question wandered up beside the doctor and followed his lead, grabbing a long stalk of wild grass, slowly peeling it apart as the two men stared at the tall buildings of Boston, glass glittering. "Shielding's done. We can head out whenever."

"Good." He made no move to return to the RV. It was bound to get hot considering it was already muggy out and still not yet noon. Air conditioning wasn't exactly the camper's strong suit at the moment. Refrigerant was one of the items that had been on their shopping list, actually, but, oh no, sorry, no time for that! Back on the road with you! You'd think with all the bullshit they'd put up with running around that they had at least earned a summer without sweaty balls sticking to their legs.

"It's kinda funny, isn't it? The makes you think kind."

Irritated hands dropped the stalk of grass and batted away early morning gnats, feeling the stickiness of the day already blanketing itself across the back of his neck. "Don't even start on th' meanin' a life here, kid. Way too damn early fer it."

"No just. How you start somewhere and you think you're going to wind up so far away and then...you just keep coming back over and over again. Same people, same places, same challenges until you figure it out and get it right. Like, here we are. Massachusetts. Fighting against the same groups who tried to prevent the alliance. Same groups now trying to destroy the alliance. Just. I dunno." He dropped the last bits from his hand and plucked a new strand from the earth. "Thinking maybe there's something we missed first time around. Something we didn't do right."

"Mebbe we oughta side with th' others. Mebbe thass it."

"Whaa? Psh, no way. I mean, the Unseelie are _un_ for a reason, bro. They aren't good times. You know the group we're going to be in? Er, well, not me but uh, y'know."

There was a tickle on the back of Worth's neck at Hanna's words and he told it to go fuck off for the time being. He'd be back around to revisit it in a bit. "Uh huh. Wot about it?"

"They're going by the name Redcaps."

"And? Red's a good color. Christ knows Conrad can't live without it."

"They get the name from the stains on their hats...You wanna guess what's staining their hats red, bro? Here's a hint, hemoglobin."

"Well then they're fuckin' idiots. Oughta be Browncaps."

"Fff, yeah, I guess."

Okay, now he could go ahead and check back in with Mr. Neck Tingles. "So yer stayin' b'hind are ya?"

"Y-yeah? Um, I mean, I _want_ to go in and help and stuff it's just...I'm too well known. They'd recognize exactly who I am and why I'm there and the jig is up! Always wanted to say that, you know? Kinda doesn't feel as awesome as I thought it'd be." Teeth worried a lower lip, Hanna's gaze looking at something far beyond the Boston skyline.

"Uh huh. So who's goin' in?"

"You know what? We could totally just finish driving now. Now would be an excellent time to drive. I even put an extra bit of rune work on to repel bugs, how rad is that? Super rad if I do say so myself. Gonna see if it works on people later on 'cause mosquitoes? Total jerks."

"Ain't lettin' ya drop it, Hanna."

Shoulders drooped and the mage sighed, looking simultaneously too old and too young. "I'm real sorry, man, but I gotta send in Connie."

Worth's nostrils flared. "Th' fuck ya do. Send me."

"Dude, did you miss the Redcaps part we discussed earlier?"

"Didn't miss shit. Connie ain't goin' in there. He can't fend fer himself."

"I don't think you're giving him enough credit, bro. He's come a long way. Saved your ass more than once. A certain incident like a month ago is kinda coming to mind."

He remembered. Saying "thank you" hadn't worked out quite the way he had hoped. The follow up attempt hadn't fared much better. He popped his neck and grit his teeth. "Flukes. He got lucky."

"Uh, yeah, sure. Lucky. That's a word that totally makes me think of Conrad."

"Ya ain't sendin' him in there by himself, Hanna."

"Oh, no, he won't be, see, it'll be a group. He'll be with a group. Not by himself, Jesus, I'm not _that_ dumb, gimme some credit here, okay? Trust me?" Hanna stepped in closer, putting a hand on Worth's arm, blue eyes looking up. "I know that...I _know_, okay? I know. I'm gonna make sure this works."

"Iffee dies..."

"He won't. I mean, hey, he's already dead, right?" At Worth's instant glare, the red head backed up, grinning, hands up with fingers spread. "Bad joke, bad joke! For serious, though, man, he'll be okay, okay? Uhhhh wow you are still angry face so I'm gonna just head back to the camper and let Nolan know we are ready? Yes? Okay? Wow, yeah, know what? I'm gonna run," he did, shouting out a "meet you there!" as he zoomed, leaving a swath of swaying grass in his wake. Worth stalked after him, uprooting grass and tossing it aside as he followed.

XXXXX

Conrad hadn't been particularly pleased with the plan, either, but was eventually brought to a very cranky "I'm not speaking to you" agreement. Or at least Worth figured it was an agreement. Conrad was currently hiking through the city streets alongside the doctor and four others so that was agreement enough or at least an ending to his objections. They had been trudging along for far longer than Worth liked, and he was fairly certain there was magic at work keeping them moving in circles, making it hard to find the epicenter of Unseelie activity. Fucking annoying.

He was trying to keep track of each of the various families of supernatural critters roaming along with him. The easiest one to remember was Hey. She was an Angiak, and had traveled one hell of a long way to join the group. Her name meant snow, apparently. Worth just liked being able to shout "Hey" and have someone look up immediately. Didn't like her eyes, though. Freaked him right out. Then again, she was the soul of an Inuit child who had been left out in the elements to die during a lean season. He supposed any spirit from those sorts of origins wouldn't be all sunshine and flowers.

There was a Glastig, and he had nearly made a rather fatal mistake upon first meeting her. She'd been flirting and, hell, he was strung out and she'd seemed cute (and willing) enough at first glance. Fortunately he'd spotted a bit of hoof sticking out from underneath her long skirt and promptly turned his attentions back to Conrad. Neither goat-girl nor Conrad had seemed terribly happy with that turn of events. Couldn't remember her name. Would probably call her Nanny at some point and get kicked. No real loss there - not like he was going to get into barnyard antics with her anyway.

A naga and a, what was it? Something-noz? They rounded out the rest of the group. Naga seemed like an alright guy, if a little effeminate. Worth wasn't too surprised that he and Conrad had been getting along fairly well so far. Nozzie was just a short, dumpy guy with warts and the thinnest, mousiest brown hair Worth had ever seen. Quiet. Apparently did sheep herding. Maybe he'd wind up under Nanny's skirts before this was all done.

The current topic between new bff's snakey two-fang and faggy one-fang was one of those British series Conrad kept reading over and over again. Worth blotted sweat from his upper lip and forehead with the sleeve of his shirt, listening only because he didn't have much of anything else to do besides play kick the empty beer bottle.

"I agree, those were good books, but I don't know if you can overlook Sam Vimes."

"Sam Vimes was good," the naga replied, arm bangles catching the moonlight as he emphasized his words, "but he was no Death."

"Yes, but Death just spoke to you in your head and collected souls. Vimes actually solved mysteries. Also, Vimes had a werewolf and a zombie on his payroll. Death only ever spent time with humans or the Deaths of other creatures."

"Okay, but can we at least agree that the Death of Rats was fantastic?"

"Well...well yes, okay, we can agree on that point."

Worth was getting tired of it. Conrad looked almost happy? Relaxed at least, and that was simply unacceptable. Butting in was mandatory. "Oi. So you got a cloaca or wot?"

Face blank, the naga looked over. "I assume that was aimed at me."

"Lookin' at ya, ain't I?"

Golden eyes narrowed slightly. "You are, yes."

"So?"

"My God, really? _Really?_" Conrad pinched the bridge of his nose and stopped walking, choosing instead to stand in the middle of the street. "This is what you are asking. We are trying to find the entrance and you're going to ask Ram about his-his-his..._physiology_?"

"Yeah. Why not? Ain't findin' this place 'n' I'm bored." Grinning, he sat on the dusty hood of an abandoned car parked along the curb. "Call it scientific curiosity."

"Scientific is it?" The tip of Ram's tail curled and flipped back and forth as he smoothed the front of his long shirt with long fingered hand.

Worth shrugged. "Sure. We'll go with that."

"Well in that case," the tail stopped flipping and he slithered closer, winding up draping himself across the hood of the car Worth was reclining on. He rested his head in the palm of one hand. "Yes."

"Christ that's weird. Ya piss 'n' shit from th' same place."

"And mate. Don't forget that part." A fingernail tapped against a fang. "Interesting question."

"Issit? Ya freaked out by me havin' separate spaces fer my genitals 'n' anus? I find it pretty damn useful."

"Not particularly," Ram tilted his head, looked mildly bored, "usually human men first ask about the tongue."

For a white hot moment Worth sat there wordlessly as his mind immediately jolted forward to the implications. He squinted, chin jutting out. "Prove it."

With a wiggle of eyebrows, the naga parted his lips and a forked tongue slid out, tips moving independently. "I'm afraid," he said after his tongue slid back into its proper place, "I'm not at liberty to give a demonstration. Besides, you're not really my type."

"Eh," the doctor shrugged, "suppose I ain't really available nohow, ain't that right, sweetheart?"

Conrad cleaned his glasses on his shirt, temporary blindness apparently saving him from the rather impressive tongue display. "No, I suppose you are not."

"Unless mebbe ya wanned ta do a li'l experimentation. Threeways ain't s'bad if ya put all th' pieces together in th' right way."

Polished glasses slid back into place. "I'm not even acknowledging this line of thought. It's not going to happen."

"Ooh, that a li'l jealousy I see, Connie?"

"Hardly."

"Yer even hard? Well, Christ, we ought find us a nice quiet alley or, hell, I'm fine with this car right here." Worth patted the hood in the space between himself and the naga.

"You have issues. Serious issues. Volumes. Catalogs. _Libraries_. Can we get on with things, please?"

Goat-girl fluffed her skirt, feet making slight clicking noises against the asphalt. "I think he's right. Sun up will come eventually and while that might not bother, Hey, Ram, Nigel," oh that was his name. Fitting. "Or me, I have a feeling it won't get on well with vampires."She had a point. Though it was still dark, the horizon held the graying promise of future light.

Worth tsked and slid from the hood of the car. "I tol' ya we oughta have brought along some sunscreen 'n' sunnies fer ya, Connie. Ya never lissen ta me, do ya?"

"The last time I listened to you we wound up hopelessly lost in Mexico with chupacabres clinging to the side mirror of the RV."

"Really?" Uneven nails scratched the underside of Worth's chin. "Don't remember that."

"You wouldn't. You were high out of your mind and giggling, asking if we could visit the butterfly museum."

The naga choked on a laugh and graced Worth with the sort of smile one reserves for especially adorable and stupid children. "Butterfly museum?"

"Wot? Ya don't enjoy nature's beauty?" Worth pointedly looked at Ram's tail.

"Um, I-I d-do think Caoimhe has m-made a g-good point." Nigel looked up, smiling nervously, eyes skittering away as soon as they made contact with Worth's. "M-maybe we sh-should g-get going?"

With an exaggerated bow, Worth stepped aside. "Ladies first."

Caoimhe gave a wan smile and strutted forward in her slightly off, hopping sort of gait with Hey close behind. Nigel attempted to follow and Worth put his hand out, blocking him. "Ah, ladies first."

"B-b-but Caoimhe and H-Hey have alr-ready gone."

"Uh huh. I did say ladies, aint' that right, love of my life?" Wrinkled eyes fluttered as they sought out Conrad's face.

Worth was moved by Conrad's response. Literally. His head was ringing and his footsteps less than straight for several blocks afterwards while the vampire scowled and shook his now aching hand.

"Ugh! We're getting nowhere." Fang poking over his lower lip, Conrad stopped and put his hands on his hips. "Does anyone here know any magic? Anyone? Homing beacon or mystical flare gun or a flock of fucking doves? Something? Anything?" Frustrated, he sat down on the curb, fingers rubbing at his temples.

Ram sighed and coiled up next to Conrad. "It may be better to call it off for now and try again later."

"Ya gettin' a headache, Connie?"

He huffed. "Yes."

"Guess that means mornin' approaches. Wotever we do we gotta decide ta do it fast."

A short, rounded nail tapped against Caoimhe's pink lips while she looked up and around. "Should we just find a building and go to the darkest area? Let Conrad sleep? Hey and I could keep looking."

The naga rose up, stretching. "I'm good with sunlight. Very good."

"Sure ya are. Fine. Two a ya g'on ahead 'n' see if ya kin find anythin'." Red rimmed eyes searched, looking for a suitable building in the area. "I'll find some place fer her ladyship ter catch up on her beauty sleep. Christ knows she needs it." Almost forgetting, Worth looked down at Nigel. "Guess ya kin do wotever ya want. Go with 'em or bunk down with us. 'Course, if ya stay with us, ya might hear some things. Connie's a bit o' a screamer."

"Oh for God's sake, Worth, I am hungry and tired and my head is throbbing and-"

"That all thass throbbin'?"

Conrad snarled. Worth smiled delightedly. The vampire lunged and suddenly their surroundings shifted, shimmered, wiggled. Worth felt off balance, struggled to keep his eyes open, to stay aware and present. It became clear very quickly that they were not alone, and possibly had never been alone in their entire wanderings of the city. Lumpy, dark, pulsing shapes emerged, walking around the group, some ignoring and others clearly watching.

"Well," a voice like gargled nails spoke, belonging, apparently, to the thing covered in armor approaching them directly. Worth squinted, tried to find eyes or a face or even figure out what he was looking at. The best he could come up with was a cross between a tree and an ox, well armored, and carrying a very sharp looking axe. "Congratulations. You have found the Redcaps."

Laughter surrounded them, a sensation like arrows thunking off of Worth's skin. He felt something else, too, a hunger, desire for him. It wasn't the good sort, though. He had a feeling it was less "I'd like to have some of that" and more "I'd like to have some of that with a side of fava beans and a nice Chianti."

Well he always felt the best defense was a good offense. The doctor straightened his back, felt Conrad's hold on the front of his shirt go slack and fall away. "'Bout goddamned time. How long ya been watchin' us?"

"Some time."

Something was running back and forth, darting between the bodies surrounding Worth's group. He kept his eye on it. "So we gotta do some official enlistment or wot?"

Oxtree swayed slowly. "Something like that. Why do you wish to join? Each of you. Reasons."

Ram moved forward, slithering close to their welcoming committee as he bowed his head. "Humans have persecuted my kind for centuries. They have skinned my people alive and thrown them in pots of boiling water. They have chased us from our homelands with beatings, thrown firebombs into our dens, killing our children. Their time is over, as is the time of my people's persecution. I side with the Redcaps."

Around them the clang of metal punctuated by howls that settled in his guts and made him nauseous. "Well spoken. Who else wishes to plead their case?"

"The children of man," Caiomhe nearly whispered, face covered by long hair as she looked at her hands, clasped together, wringing themselves in the mauve toned pre-dawn, "have done nothing but use me for their own physical means. They desire me, they desire to _use_ me. They then want to leave me when they find out I am imperfect. They are too much like the Seelie, too obsessed with beauty and perfection. They do not embrace change. They are doomed to fail. Only those who see the true path will survive," she looked up, cheeks wet, "those who evolve and accept differences, embrace them, they are the enlightened ones, they are the ones who deserve power. I side with the Redcaps."

More cheering. That thing was still running around, getting closer with each pass. Worth's hands ached for his gun.

"Small ones," Oxtree prompted, kneeling to be something closer to Nigel's face.

Eyes darted around, he swallowed, hands fisting and relaxing at Nigel's sides. "I'm u-ugly. All I ever w-w-wanted w-was...was to l-love someone and b-be l-loved. M-my mother th-th-threw me out wh-when she s-saw what she g-gave b-birth to. Th-they have thrown m-me away. Wh-why sh-should I not th-throw them away t-too?"

"Why indeed, little brother. Little sister?"

"I was thrown out by humans as well. Left to freeze to death surrounded by nothing but whiteness. I am always hungry, always cold. They have cursed me and I shall, in turn, curse them, as well."

Nodding, appearing to accept the statements, Oxtree rose and Worth immediately moved, spotting that circling thing suddenly leaping forward. He grabbed Conrad by the shoulders, pulling him out of the way.

"Oh God what is that?"

It was mostly humanoid. Mostly. It looked like a child's attempt to create a clay human that had been abandoned part way through. There was no head, but there was a mouth with teeth directly where the neck would be, frothing, ropey strands of saliva swaying as it attempted another lunge. "Eateateateat!"

"Aw th' hell ya do. Connie ain't on th' menu." Worth kicked, striking the creature in what he assumed was the solar plexus. It whined and stumbled back, arms flailing.

The longer of Oxtree's arms reached out, snagging the headless creature by the shoulder. "Patience. We appreciate the vampire's blood offering, but he must first make the offering official before we feast."

"_What?_"

"Is he not a blood offering? A gift?"

"No!"

"What is he, then? Surely you don't expect us to accept him as a Redcap." Oxtree's grip tightened and Headless screeched as its arm suddenly crumpled unnaturally. "What game are you trying to play, fledgling?"

"I, what? Game? No game. I just..." Conrad looked around, uncertain, eyes settling on Worth, then back out to the group. They hadn't really figured this part out before leaving. Hanna hadn't been happy, but he also couldn't do much to stop Worth from following along. "He's not an offering or a gift."

"What is he?" Oxtree repeated, three words soon picked up by others surrounding them. The human and the vampire looked once to the four they had thought of as allies. Worth wasn't quite as certain of their standing now.

Ice so cold it burned wrapped around Worth's forearm. He tried to twist to break its grip, but his insides were corkscrewing and boiling. He heard a shriek as he was released, knees giving out, cold sweat on his skin as he dry heaved on the ground. He could see Conrad's feet and heard crisp, words above him as he struggled to clear his head.

"He is mine. You think I'm going to come here without a steady food supply? I might be a fledgling, but I'm not stupid. Keep your hands and claws and beaks and whatever else you have away from him."

The crowd murmured. Oxtree shifted his axe from hand to hand. "I'm afraid I do not believe you, fledgling. He bears no marks of ownership. No collar of scabs, barely a pallor to his skin. Provide proof or I will eat him myself."

Worth sat back and looked around, vision clearing. He spotted an angry, thin woman holding the stump of what used to be a full arm. Oh. Banshee. No wonder that had hurt like a bitch. He sat on his ass an looked up at Conrad's stiff back. "I knew I oughta have given ya my class ring 'n' made this thing official."

"Shut up and show them."

"Wot?"

"Show them, Worth."

"Fraid I left all my jewelry at home, darlin'. Didn't wanna risk losin' any of it on th-"

Conrad whirled and pulled Worth to his feet by the back of his damp collar. Christ it was easy to forget how much strength the vampire had when he wasn't actually using it all the time. The button on the left arm of Worth's long sleeved shirt popped off as Conrad yanked it up, exposing bruised skin on the inside of Worth's elbow. So, it hadn't been as much of a secret as the doctor had thought. He stood, dumbly, feeling naked in a wholly unpleasant manner.

"You think I'm going to put my mouth on him? He bleeds himself for me and has been doing so for years. He is mine. He is not yours. You will stay fucking away."

"So you have forced a human into servitude. We can respect that. But I would advise keeping him on a short leash, fledgling. Not all will respect your wishes. Might makes right."

Conrad released Worth and the older man stumbled, unsure if he should pull his sleeve back down or not. He left it for now, fingers twitching with the need for nicotine.

"If anyone fucks with my meal ticket, they will regret it. I am not in the mood. Now if we're done with the formalities, I'm going to sleep." The vampire turned and stalked off. The Redcaps parted, letting him through.

Worth took a breath, then waved to the group and followed Conrad to the nearest building, an office of some sort. They walked up the stairs, footsteps hollow and echoing, glowing symbols painted above railings casting strange, fizzing shadows along the walls. Upon reaching the third floor and finding the door unlocked, they entered and headed down the dark hallway. Worth had to slide a hand along the wall to maintain an idea of where he was, running right into Conrad on more than one occasion when the vampire stopped short.

"Here." Lukewarm skin grabbed Worth's hand. "It's going to take forever if you just keep bashing into me every time I check a door."

"Dunno how th' fuck yer seein' in here."

Conrad didn't reply, leading Worth by the hand, continuing to try doors until he found one he considered suitable. He dragged Worth inside and pushed him against a wall. "Stay here. Don't move."

"Good pet does wot they're told."

A snort and then Conrad was gone, leaving Worth to stand, blinking futilely in the darkness as he heard the tell-tale scrapes of furniture being rearranged. When it was quiet, Conrad returned and again took his hand, leading him to something Worth guessed was close to the middle of the room. "If you feel nearby you'll find a chair. I'm taking the lounger. It's right beside the chair. I am going to sleep and we will figure things out when I wake up."

Released, Worth frowned and felt for the chair, sitting down in it once located. It was a good size and plush as hell. He could actually sort of curl upon it and ooh, it reclined. That was the ticket. The gears complained from lack of use, but the chair leaned back, foot section popping out to support Worth's lower legs. The room was quiet and Worth had an unsettling feeling of being inside a sensory deprivation tank. Just him and the darkness and somewhere out there, Conrad. He stretched his arm and felt the softness of Conrad's hair beneath his palm.

Then he felt the roughness of Conrad's hand smacking his away. "Stop. Not in the mood."

Silence again. Too much of it. Too heavy. Worth gave in. "How long ya known?"

"Considering the fact that the blood I've had has never changed in flavor once and I was somehow miraculously still being fed baggies of it when we were thousands of miles from civilization and without any sort of refrigeration system for months at a time? Really? Besides, I've seen you boiling catheters and needles. It wasn't hard to figure out."

"Huh...Wot would ya have done if ya hadn't found any marks on m'arm? Jus' start strippin' me from head ta toe?"

No reply.

"Connie?" He hazarded touching Conrad's head again. The vampire remained motionless and Worth allowed the tips of his fingers to graze across shaggy hair as he sighed. "Th' hell're we gonna do 'bout this, Connie?"

Without an answer, the doctor pulled his shirt sleeve down and went to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

There was a faint bit of pink light creating a barely discernible rectangle in the room. Worth stared at it, fought the urge to touch it, increase the brightness, let him actually take a look at his surroundings, but, as near as he could tell, Conrad was still sleeping. He figured he'd test the waters to be sure. His right hand moved, felt the side of Conrad's head, and traced the outer shell of his ear. Fingers ghosted along slightly then pulled back and shot forward sharply, flicking the vampire's ear hard enough to make an audible thwack.

No stirring and no bitching. Okay, he was still asleep.

Worth had slept okay, but not terribly well. The recliner was nice, certainly a welcomed break from constantly lying on his side, folded up like an accordion to keep his feet from hanging off the edge of the camper's bed. He hadn't slept on his back in ages, not on something soft, anyway, and it had been a pleasant change of pace. But all the same he had felt himself waking with confusion more than once, pawing at the chair, keenly aware of the lack of a body beside him in his sleep. He didn't know when he'd become so goddamned domesticated. At this point, he didn't much care, either.

Stiff joints popped and the springs in the chair whined as he sat up, kicking the foot rest back into place. They had walked right into a hell of a hornets' nest this time, and he wasn't entirely sure how they would get out of it. To be fair, he was never quite sure, but at least he had mostly dealt with humans in previous situations. A hoard of Unseelie weren't exactly within his realm of expertise. At least, not when he couldn't just go right in and shoot them.

The doctor sighed, thinking back fondly to easier times when the most threatening creatures of the night had been cockroaches. Somehow over the past decade that had evolved to all manner of creepy crawlies, the vast majority of which wanted little more than to gnaw your face off. Now he had to navigate without getting himself killed, without getting Conrad killed, and without blowing their cover. He was reasonably certain he was only good at one of those three tasks. It was probably just a matter of time before another Unseelie or a group of them decided Worth was the other white meat and decided to take another chance at a still-breathing meal.

"Good thing I got my lady o' th' night with me, eh? Keepin' me safe 'n' sound close ta her bosom."

"Fuck off. 'm not a prostitute."

Oh, so he was awake now. Worth settled a bit deeper into his chair. "Fact remains ya got a bosom."

"I have a chest," he grumbled, voice muffled slightly by the couch cushion, "not a bosom."

"Naw, ya ain't givin' yerself enough credit here. Ya filled out a bit. Might even make it ta a big girl bra one o' these days."

"Worth."

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"Shut up."

"Love ya, too."

"I wonder."

Worth paused, licked his dry lips, stared at the pink edges, now turning maroon, one step away from violet. "So how we doin' this?"

A sigh and the sound of fabric moving as Conrad was apparently giving up on trying to sleep. "Doing what?"

"This. This whole...thing."

"We stick to the plan and hope it doesn't kill us."

Oh, so it was back to business as usual. Fine. That made things easier, really. "Right. D'ya still trust them others, though? Seemed awfully convincin' last night when they gave their oaths."

"I don't know. We knew going in that they were going to pledge allegiance. We knew _I[_] was going to pledge allegiance. Do you question where my loyalties lie?"

The edges of the window had turned plum. "Dunno. Guess not. But I've known ya fer awhile now, Connie. Jus' met th' other buggers last night. Sides, yer too attached."

Conrad snorted. "Attached? _Really?_ To what?"

"Well I caught ya talkin' ta th' RV few weeks back."

"That doesn't count. I was working on her-"

"Oooh assignin' a gender? Ya sound long gone."

"Look, it doesn't count. I was working on _the vehicle_ and talking out loud to figure out a problem. It's normal behavior. Besides, female is a common gender assigned to automobiles. Try learning French."

"Vraiment, vous adorez votre voiture."

"That...may be the most disturbing thing you've ever said to me."

"Why? Prefer me bein' an uncultured swine? Or yer mad I don't mind sharin' ya with th' camper? 's okay. We all got our dirty secrets."

"Maybe. Just...let's move on, shall we?"

"Ta th' love of yer life?"

Conrad's voice went deadpan. "Let me guess. That's supposed to be you, isn't it?"

"Aww, sweetheart, ya didn't need ta guess at it. Ya knew it all along. Je t'aime, mon petite chou."

"Ugh, stop. No more French. It's making my ears bleed...did you just call me a small cabbage?"

"Mebbe. Could call ya somethin' else if ya like."

"No. No, I do not."

"Little cabbage it is."

"NO! That is not what I-you know what? Fine. Whatever. I'm too tired and hungry to argue right now."

Worth frowned, squinting in the dark. "When'd ya last eat?"

"I don't know. When did you last feed me?"

He took a breath. Time was funny without clocks and calendars and the sun across the sky. He sort of generally had an idea of things, summer, fall, winter, that sort of thing. Dead bloke kept note of the specific dates and would announce the more important ones. Last he'd heard Fourth of July was over. He just wasn't sure how long ago it had been over. He tried to count out how many sunsets had awoken him since the last time he had a needle in his arm. All it did was make his empty stomach cringe. "Cabbage baby, I ain't gotta clue."

"Well there's your answer. God let's just get this fucking over with fast so we can go back and eat something."

"I'll agree with ya there, Connie."

"Might as well go now." An irritated huff and even in the dark Worth was sure he could see Conrad's hands on his hips. "I'll have to move the furniture again."

"Guess it's true. Ya kin take th' fag outta th' home, but ya can't take th' interior decorator outta him."

"I barricaded the door so nothing would come in and surprise eat you in your sleep. Also, that barely made sense."

He was guided to a wall again and stood there, listening to the scrape and stutter of furniture. "Well...suppose that was real thoughtful of ya. Don't expect nothin' less, though, since I'm yer one 'n' only 'n' you'd be lost without me. Jus' can't bear th' thought of another man's hands on me, can ya?"

"Yes, Worth. Of course, Worth," a hand clasped the doctor's as he was led out of the room, "Anything you say, Worth."

They made their way outside and Conrad belatedly released Worth's hand a few blocks from the building they had stayed in. Worth didn't comment, which probably made things a bit weirder. Whatever. He was pretty sure he smelled food and Conrad seemed to be sashaying his way in its general direction.

Just like with humans and Seelie, the Unseelie formed small patches of groups, smattered out across the streets in haphazard puddles. There was a tiny park right outside the building they had slept in, sandwiched between roads, and most were gathered there, hunching over food, some squatting, some standing. Lots of trees, which probably meant some decent shade in the daytime, but nearly half of them had been reduced to splintered stumps, limbs scattered haphazardly. The old fashioned lampposts were mostly intact, but bent in the sorts of ways that likely meant multiple collisions with Unseelie heads. Well, lay of the land was pretty obvious. Now to figure out where to go to eat.

It was easy to figure out as there was a general sort of line forming. The line wasn't perfect, and was really just a mass of bodies shoving one another out of the way or taking advantage of scruffles to insert themselves at a higher point along the line. Reminded Worth a bit of a raucous bar, everyone trying to gain the attention of the bartenders, random fights. He was disappointed there wasn't a pool table that he could see. Not so much because he played pool, he could, sort of, was piss poor at it, though, but mostly to make some jokes about bending Conrad over and hitting balls with his pole. Standard, really. He'd have to try and find a pool hall somewhere in order to get the joke in. Note to self.

An actual fight broke out as they neared the group. Worth knew the difference between a scuffle and a fight. Real fights involved people watching. Real fights were clenched teeth and grunting, none of that talking bullshit. Real fights also often involved weapons and Conrad started as a spray of hot, black blood spritzed across the side of his face. Good news was with others watching the fight, Worth was able to sidle right up and grab a leg of, well, shit, a leg followed by the rest of the rabbit, out of a slowly bubbling pot. Good. Extra to eat and the bonus of knowing exactly what critter he was actually putting in his mouth. With a group like this, there were more options than he really wanted to consider at the moment.

Holding onto the leg, ignoring the burning it created in his palm, he nudged Conrad, chin pointing toward a wrought iron bench across the street and in another, slightly less occupied section of the small park. They walked over and sat, Worth pulling a pocket knife out to help separate bone from body and aid his eating as the carcass lay on his lap. Jeans would probably be fucked after this. He might have a spare set somewhere in the RV. Conrad sat rigidly, looking like he wanted to crawl out of his skin, slowly and methodically cleaning his glasses, muscle in his jaw jumping as teeth bore down on one another. Hopefully he wasn't hiding some special expensive veneers in there. If so, one of them was about to crack.

"Ya missed a spot," Worth said around a mouth of meat. Gamey, but fuck it, food was food.

"Please don't remind me. I am trying to forget what just happened."

"Jus' a li'l blood. Ya had worse on ya."

Pale lips scowled, snaggle tooth fang pressing into lower lip. Fingers continued to work fabric against glass. "Not asking. Not giving you an opening."

Worth grunted and tossed the mostly meat free leg he had been working on off into the street. He wiped his hands off on the cleaner sides of his thighs, then turned. "C'mere." He cupped Conrad's face.

Pushing glasses back into place, the vampire pulled back and batted at Worth's hands, irritation instant. "God, what are you doing now?"

"Will ya jus' c'mere?" Within his hands the vampire relaxed slightly even as he continued to glare, and Worth leaned in, looking at the drying blood splattered against ivory skin. He rubbed his sleeved arm against his side, working it low enough for his fingers to grasp the cuff. Fabric in hand, he lifted his arm and fastidiously wiped the side of Conrad's face. "There. Feel better now, princess?"

Lips pursed. "Yes."

"If ya want it really clean I gotta use a li'l spit, though."

Conrad shoved him away and leaned forward, forearms resting on his thighs. "It's _fine_. I don't need your spit, thank you."

"Suit yerself...there're other fluids I could use but it might take a li'l assistance ta-"

He rubbed his forehead, eyes sliding shut. "I am not giving you a hand job in the middle of Boston."

"Huh. Well, I guess I'll jus' take ya up on things when we're on th' outskirts then." With that, it was back to eating and watching the fights. Not that bad of an evening, really. Had to hand it to the Unseelie - hot grub and plenty of entertainment so far.

It was around the time when Worth was wondering what else he could scavenge off the rabbit's body that Caiohme and Hey appeared. Worth held out the mostly stripped carcass to Hey and she immediately sat on the curb, small bones cracking between her teeth.

Caiohme sat beside Worth delicately, smoothing her skirt, watching the blue skinned girl devouring the skeleton. "How's the food?"

He nearly complained, but was interrupted by Conrad. "Nothing special." Oh, right, code words for "Have you found him?" and a reply of "No". Good thing Conrad was the woman in this relationship and never let Worth get a word in. "I assume the same for you?"

She nodded. "We lost track of Ram and Nigel last night. Hey and I mostly wandered and kept to the edges. We wanted to stick together but..."

"They might think we were up to something then," Hey supplied.

"Wouldn't want that now, would we," The fight across the street had died down and Worth scanned the area, taking quick mental snapshots, trying to single out big bad important types from the average canon fodder. "Sure we'll bump inter each other eventually. Ya need a place ta stay? Connie 'n' I are shacked up a few blocks over."

"Maybe. Big, loud groups make me nervous." Her gaze settled on the losers in the fight before the food pot, left to bleed out across the brick sidewalk.

"Eeh. 've had better company, I'll give ya that." A thoughtful look crossed the doctor's face. "Smelled worse, though."

"Worse?" Large brown eyes blinked at Worth.

"Sure. Ya ever spend time inna frat house?" At her head shake he shrugged. "All it takes is one party with a busted toilet 'n' an' angry skunk 'n' ya wouldn't believe wot ya smell in th' mornin'."

"I always wondered, Worth."

"Mmm? Whassat, love?"

"For how long you've led such a charmed life. Apparently, it's lasted decades. I'm starting to believe you're part cockroach."

"Eeeh, coulda been worse. Shoulda seen some a th' places _Mont_ lived."

XXXXX

It took two more days before Worth and Conrad made contact with Ram. Nigel had remained little more than a memory; no one had seen or heard from him. Probably actually did go turncoat, or maybe he was off writing poetry about the beauty of bleats and looking for a pretty, shiny bell to put around Caiohme's neck. Speaking of Caiohme, she and Hey had wound up holing themselves away in the same building as Worth and Conrad and had become somewhat useless, all things considered. Hey had a tendency to attach to someone and follow them around. Good if you needed a pack mule, not as helpful if you needed an independent thinker. Caiohme's nerves were making her shake too much to feel like she could go out in public. He guessed he couldn't blame her too much. Fear wasn't exactly a good thing to advertise to this crowd. Still, he wished they'd been sent out with spooks possessing stronger back bones.

So far the only thing they had discerned was that the Unseelies were restless and bored. There was no real established order, and the chain of command could (and seemingly did) change from day to day. Whomever was calling the shots hadn't made up their mind on what to do yet. That was somewhat encouraging. The fact that food was plentiful, however, was discouraging. Easiest way to a rebellion no matter what species you were looking at was food shortage. With plenty of food, well, the only thing to rebel against was the lack of guidance. Considering small raids for shits and giggles went off randomly, Worth had a feeling the group was only going to grow in size and power rather than start defecting. If anything, the raids would increase in frequency and brutality. He didn't exactly like where things were heading.

"So how's the food?" Conrad asked the naga, looking worn and sluggish. Worth knew the locals were noticing it, how worn down and lacking in energy the vampire was becoming. That wasn't good for either of them. He needed to get Conrad eating and soon.

Ram slithered in a sauntering manner, moving Worth and Conrad away from the edge of a Basilisk fighting pit, stopping when he was beside two trolls. "Believe it or not, I had a pretty good meal the other day."

Both the doctor and the vampire perked. "That a fact?"

They weren't alone. There was no real way to be alone without drawing attention. Worth very nearly had a target on his head and as much as it chafed, he couldn't go anywhere without his escort by his side. Hmm...there was a hooker joke in there somewhere. No way to openly ask for details or for Ram to go back to their place for a private chat, so they would have to play this by ear.

One of the two trolls standing near Worth spoke, conveniently taking the heat off. He didn't mind trolls so much. They were slow of body and of mind. Hard heads, though; bullets would just ping right off of them. Fortunately, they had enough softer areas that made excellent targets. "Where? Good food? Where?"

"Oh, well, I don't know if I should tell you that," Ram replied, toying with a ring on his thumb. He glanced up at Worth, then back down. "If I do, you'll probably just want to go eat there, yourself, and then that's less good food for me. I'm not even sure I know the right way to explain where it is."

"Tell. Location. What there?" A club hit the ground for emphasis. "We find. We no tell others."

"Well only if you're _sure_. I can sort of explain the location. But I may need you to fill in the details for me so I can be _certain_ of the _location_ of the _good food_."

Sneaky bastard. Snakey might be growing on Worth after all.

"Yes. We find out. No tell." They seemed terribly proud of themselves, puffing out their barrel chests.

"Well, alright. But this is just a secret between us, okay? So," he leaned against the brick of building and gestured vaguely, "you know that plaza? By City Hall?"

"No. What hall?"

"Oh I think there are other buildings nearby..." he put a finger to his lips, thinking. "Cambridge Street? There's a Post Office."

They were looking confused and upset. Worth was starting to wonder if he and the trolls were being trolled.

"It's a plaza...oh! There's the police station? You know the one, with the traitor?"

"We know!" They grinned, wide, uneven teeth gray like granite. "We know there. We no go in. We no have partners. Maybe in future? Food good?"

"Yes, the plaza over there. I considered going in the jail to see the traitor as well, but I lack a partner, too. Amazing all you need is a partner in order to enter the jail and see her. Oh but I'm rambling, aren't I?" He smiled, sharp and bright. "Why don't you head over now? Hopefully they haven't run out of good things to eat while I've just lazed around talking."

The trolls bounded off, or, well, bounded relative to how trolls move. It was Worth's turn to grin. "I know ya said I ain't yer type, but if I was, I might risk wifey's wrath 'n' kiss ya right 'bout now."

"Sounds dangerous," Ram chuckled, looking off to the side, hands rubbing up and down his arms. "Not sure you should risk it."

Conrad glared. "If you hadn't just told us what you did, and were lacking in good literary taste, I might throttle you for going along with the wifey comment."

Thick eyebrows raised and Ram looked back over to the vampire. "You're going to argue it?"

A scowl to go with the glare. "I'm no one's wifey."

"Yeah, I guess I was gettin' ahead of myself there. Gotta do th' one knee thing 'n' ceremony first, ain't I?"

Conrad turned his back on the doctor, stalking off in the direction of the trolls. "The moment I am feeling better, you will be in pain."

"Music ter my ears, Connie."

They weren't too far from the plaza and wound up walking along the road side by side, Conrad doing his best to glare when an Unseelie spent what he deemed to be too much time staring at Worth. It mostly just looked like he was trying not to fart, which Worth found amusing. Wished he could have taken a picture; mental snapshots only got you so far. He noted how much slower he had to walk, though, and shoved his hands in his pockets, right hand toying with his pocket knife. Hopefully the Unseelie took the sedate pace to be a leisurely stroll and not Conrad simply being too tired and stiff to move any faster.

The doctor cleared his throat after Conrad hissed a warning at a slightly too close bogman. "I was thinkin'."

"Wonderful. Superb. So terribly _thrilled_ for you."

He continued, "Mebbe tonight ya oughta eat somethin'."

"I would like to, but pray tell, how am I supposed to do that?"

Worth's eyebrows raised, rolling skin into wrinkles across his tall forehead. "Pretty sure it involves bitin' 'n' suckin'. Don't quote me on that if ya know some other method."

"I'm not...I'm not biting you. Not here. Not...no."

"Why not? Oi, if it's that yer afraid a hurtin' me," he began to snicker and Conrad crossed his arms. "Well, I'm real touched by th' concern, but if ya haven't realized it yet-"

"Please," the shorter man interrupted, "That's not a fear I have, believe me. It's just...There are no facilities to wash up. Everything I've had from you or willing donors has been sterile. This would be," his face twisted, nostrils widening as he worked the words around in his mouth and head before speaking, "not. Not sterile."

"So ya get a li'l dirty," Worth stepped into the street to avoid walking into a fire hydrant, then back onto the sidewalk, "ain't like yer th' picture o' pristine skin yerself right now." The vampire remained quiet and after some time, with the plaza just ahead, he spoke again. "Kin do like with th' coffee. Remember? Back when we still had a regular society? Saw ya faggin' up a coffee shop late at night 'n' jus' nicked m'hand. Gave ya a li'l snackie in yer toy teacup."

"Espresso cup, Worth. And yes, I remember. I don't know that you should be cutting yourself without medical supplies around."

"I was fine. I'll be fine. Connie. Oi," he stopped walking and grabbed Conrad's arm. "This is important. 'm serious." He guided the vampire back against the small alcove of a building's doors and leaned down, voice low. "Ya might think they ain't noticed, that I'm th' only one who has. They know, Conrad. They know jus' as much as I do that yer fadin'. Ain't safe."

Red eyes searched Worth's face and the blonde fought the urge to look away. "Self preservation, then? Is that it? Feed so that your body guard can keep you safe?"

Exasperated he sighed. "Yeah, some of it. But this ain't jus' about me, Conrad."

"What is it about, then?" His chin stuck out aggressively.

"Goddamn it are ya serious? Don't know how damn many ways I gotta say this." Scowling he pulled back, felt shadows behind him. "Startin' ta think it's better ter jus' beat it inta yer skull."

"Hold. Time enough for that later," good old Oxtree or at least something that sounded like him. Worth turned and took stock of the speaker in the middle of the group of ogres. Huh, well then. Something that _sounded_ like him, but definitely _not_ him. This thing wasn't misshapen. This one made Worth immediately feel what he assumed to be a well-founded and healthy fear. This one was a disciplined killer. This one knew what the fuck it was doing. It was covered in armor, bearing a human form, but much taller and broader than any man Worth had ever known. If he'd had more slime to him, Worth might have knocked on the steel and asked if Fell was inside that trash can. "Your presence has been requested."

"By whom?" Conrad snipped, and Worth had to work to keep the vampire from pushing to stand in front of him.

Bloodstained red hand clenched, metal squeaked. "The Rider."

"Wot so like, a fancy cowgirl? She wearin' them li'l, whatcha call 'ems? Daisy Dukes? Holds high score on-" Worth would have finished his question with "electric bull ridin'?" but he found it very difficult to speak with a hand around his throat and his feet off the ground.

Skin sizzled and steamed, Conrad's limbs elongating. The soldier's right hand began to uncurl as his head turned toward the shifting vampire. Worth's vision was dimming, head pounding. And then, just as quickly as he had been grabbed, he was released, falling to land in an ungraceful pile of limbs. He coughed, eyes watering, windpipe screaming, brain sending out happy little spurts of endorphins as blood rushed back into his head.

The soldier again closed his right fist, turned, and began to walk. "He has little patience. Come."

Kneeling, joints popping as Conrad's form began to return to normal, the vampire reached out to Worth. The doctor shoved him away blindly and rose. "Don't need yer help, Conrad."

"Really? So you had that all under control? You-"

"_Come or I will drag you by your eyesockets._"

Worth had a feeling that wasn't a bluff. The ogres formed two rows with space between, the soldier stood at the far end, looking down the empty middle at Worth and Conrad. It was like Moses parting a sea of mud. "Catch more flies with honey than-"

"Shut. Up." Conrad hissed and walked past Worth, shoulder roughly jostling the blonde's arm as he passed.

The doctor followed, casting a glance to the stars above. He wondered if he would see them again as the group approached the steps to City Hall.

XXXXX

City Hall was about as dark and foreboding on the inside as the doctor had expected, lit with more fancy glowing symbols on walls and plenty of candles. Worth made a mental note to nick a few candles if they made it out alive. He didn't much mind when Conrad pressed him against walls in the dark, but it would be nice to be able to see where he was going to lie down to sleep rather than stub his toes until he found it. Smelled odd, though, a combination of smoke, barnyard, and overripe vegetables.

Of course, that made sense when the doors to the main council meeting room opened and he spotted a black horse roaming around, a chunk of hay drooping from the corner of its mouth. Considering the variety of creatures he'd had verbal interactions with, he was almost expecting it to start into a villainous tirade. Instead, the horse looked up, then ignored the procession, choosing instead to focus on scratching its rump against the edge of a desk.

Worth and Conrad were guided to stand in the middle of the room, just before a raised desk. Ogres shut the door and stood in a single file line behind the two, and the soldier stood, much like a bailiff, beside the raised desk. They waited. Worth had regained control of his coughing by then, but his throat still felt like it had been crushed. Most likely because it had been. He wondered if this was a part when he should say something to Conrad. Was there anything left to say, though? Hadn't he said and done it all? Well, maybe not everything.

"Oi," Christ but it hurt to speak. Sounded about as good as it felt, too. He swallowed over the swollen fire inside his esophagus. "Connie."

"What?"

"Was thinkin' again."

Conrad took an unnecessary breath, eyes shutting momentarily. "You will bother me until I ask so, what? What is it?"

"I know ya ain't s'good at expressin' yer feelin's fer me. Or plannin' shit out. But I gotta hand it to ya, this is 'bout th' best and most unexpected shot gun weddin' I think any bloke's had. Ya got th' gothic chic ambiance 'n' yer bridesmaids," he glanced behind himself, "good on ya there, makin' sure none of 'em's as pretty as th' blushin' bride so yer groom don't get that wanderin' eye. Now we jus' wait fer th' judge ta come on out 'n' then, well then we got th' honeymoon, 'n', darlin'?" He wheezed, feeling the strain threatening a coughing fit. "Lookin' forward ta that."

The vampire stared. He could feel the ogres eyes on his back, as well. Red Right Hand shifted. The horse wandered past them to chew on a pile of hay on the other side of the room.

Wordlessly, Conrad blinked once, and then twice, shook his head as if jostling and rebooting his brain, then pinched the bridge of his nose.

With barely a sound, a door in the back of the room opened. So now it was time for the show to begin. Stylishly late, of course, can't have those pesky captives thinking you're anxious to interrogate them. You're a very busy and important spook, yes you are, and no one better forget that. Always make an entrance. Then again, considering the Unseelie they assumed was the leader walked up a few steps, set his head on the desk, and then sat in the chair, well, that alone would have been memorable enough.

The eyes on the head wiggled and jerked, the skin was of a texture and color similar to old, moldy cheese, looking almost like it was melting and puddling slightly onto the desk. The body leaned forward slightly, steepling fingers together. The head spoke. "I have been meaning to meet with you, Mr. Achenleck, Doctor Worth. I have, however, been busy. I trust your stay has been good thus far? At least one of you seems to have been eating well."

Fantastic. Worth popped his neck. "Been okay. Better if yer boys weren't s'damn in'erested in my ass."

"Confusing, yes." Eyes continued to tic, occasionally rolling back so that only the whites showed. "It's not as if you would be much of a meal." A hand waved and the body leaned back in the chair. "I suppose that's enough pleasantries. We've established that we know who you are, we also know who you have worked for or who you may still be working for."

Worth was careful to keep his expression neutral. The body language spoke of confidence. The words spoke of some doubt. Doubt was potentially good. "I ain't workin' fer no one. 'm jus' Connie's sex doll."

"What do you want?"

"What I want, Mr. Achenleck, is to get to know you a little better. You see I only really know you by reputation. I know you both have a rich history of killing whatever you think needs killing, animal, human, Unseelie, even Seelie, I would assume. I understand your loyalties, if there are any, have lain more with each other than any other group or creature. I can respect that. We believe true honor comes in self-reliance, not self-sacrifice. Nothing can truly be gained by giving yourself to another's goals. You are aware of that. You have chafed under the council and their rules. Rules that only serve to benefit them." The body stood and began to pace behind the desk.

Oh. Was it monologue time, already?

"They are stuck in the old ways. They refuse to accept that the true workings of this world are chaotic, changing. That which is static, does not evolve, does not adapt, will perish. That which grows, learns, embraces will thrive. Humans were stuck. Humans died. The Seelie are the same, clinging to the ideals of beauty, as if a pretty song will save them when a knife is at their throat." Palms pressed against the desk, fingers splayed wide as the body stopped pacing and leaned forward. "They reject passion. They sit back in their clean castles demanding others give their lives and happiness to defend the honor of the court. It's bullshit. All of it. The wolf does not care how beautiful the fawn. Anything that tries to defend it is wasting its life. In the end it will be alone, defenseless. It will be taken. Iit will be devoured."

A pinky finger made its way into Worth's ear. "Uh huh. Don't really answer Connie's question."

"We are the wolves. I thought I was making that clear." The body sat back down, steepled fingers again while the eyes did a full 360 rotation in the head. "You are welcome to join us and fight for our cause. In fact, it would please me greatly."

"Well we're here, aren't we? What more do you want?"

"Information."

"We ain't got none."

"Oh, I'm sure you do."

"You want information on the council, don't you?" At an incline of the body, Conrad continued. "We never spoke to them. Not once. No private or public talks. I've only seen them during treaty anniversaries. Worth never listens to anything anyone has to say," it was true, Worth was half tuning Conrad out, watching as the horse sniffed at the soldier's helmet, "so how could we tell you anything? We were never asked, never included. Just sent out when they wanted something done."

"Well, that does make you less useful than I had hoped." The horse began to use the soldier's arm to scratch its forehead. "Don't let her catch her eye on anything, Ly Erg. Hard to find a good mount these days. If she loses something, you'll lose something." A finger scratched along the head's hairline. "You see someone scratching and next thing you know, you have an itch, too. So, we've established you're either lying or useless when it comes to information on the council."

"Sorry ter disappoint."

"We will move on. You can tell me about Hanna."

"What about him?"

"Where is he currently?"

Horse and spook were currently engaged in a do-si-do routine as Ly Erg attempted to avoid being used as a scratching post. "How th' fuck should we know?"

"You traveled with him. In fact, you did so up until very recently."

"We aren't with him now."

"I'm growing tired of talking in circles, fledgling. Provide us with information, and do it now."

Muscles in Conrad's back tensed. Worth wasn't sure what the vampire would or could say. Even if they needed to save their own skins and rescue the undercover council agent, they couldn't say too much without actually risking Hanna's life. Well the best lie was one with plenty of truth to it. He threw his hands in the air and spoke. "Ain't much ta say. He's th' council's errand boy 'n' he's a goddamned idealistic idiot. Ya ever see mosquitoes 'n' bug zappers? Danger's th' zapper 'n' Hanna's th' bug. Jus' oohs an' aahs 'n' buzzes all th' fuck around it 'n' somehow he manages ta avoid gettin' zapped. Thinks he kin save th' world. Thinks he kin fix everyone's problems by throwin' us at 'em. There's yer info. Th' fuck else ya wanna know?" His face wrung itself for a moment, exasperated, pulling at straws. "He's allergic ta beestings 'n' whines when ya sew him up after he went dumbass 'n' got himself hurt."

Falling silent, the only sound left in the room was the creak of the headless horseman's chair as his body shifted slightly. "I see...So. After years spent with Hanna, traveling with him, working on council directives, you realize the folly of your ways and defect. You wish to join the Redcaps and bring down the Seelie fascists. We accept you into our ranks." Another squeak of the chair. "And the best you can provide is knowledge that we could cause some truly unfortunate swelling in Hanna's extremities."

"I dunno," doc Worth added, miserably, "he burns real easy in th' sun."

The rider's voice brightened. "Oh, well that changes everything."

"It...does?" Conrad asked, sounding just as bewildered as he looked.

"Oh yes. Of course. With such useful information, I think I'll make you my second and third in command here."

Pale lips began to form a "what" as Conrad looked to Worth who waved him off. "'s called sarcasm, sweetheart."

"Oh. Well. Of course." Hands settled on hips, the vampires' voice terse. "Look. That's it. He never told us anything. He would send us out with vague information and we would do our best. Why the hell do you think we wanted out, anyway? We were constantly moving, constantly without any real direction past "Oh, go get some books" or "Go take down this body snatcher, hope it doesn't hop into your body" or "drive this guy to the deep south while I disappear and you wind up on a fucking death march and get to spend a few nights stuffed in a bloody tool chest on the back of a truck"."

"Christ I hate Florida. North America's goddamned armpit."

"So, yes. I absolutely want to keep helping him. I completely want to stay with him and keep being sent on wild fucking goosechases where I nearly die _constantly_. Absolute best holiday I could hope for." Conrad was close to seething, which meant he was pretty much sneering death and danger in the face and daring it to fuck with him. It was kind of turning Worth on. If they made it out of here, he would have to do something about that. "So, whatever. There. Either you believe us or you don't. I'm about done talking in circles, too."

Yellow and blue skin sat sagging on the desk, eyes jiggling and darting in sockets. They drifted slightly, pointing in opposite directions and Worth wasn't sure which one to look at, so he just stared at the head's nose, waiting. When the head spoke, the doctor's eyes narrowed. "Very well. If that is all, please exit through the front of the building. Ly Erg and the rest will see you out. Oh, and one of you bring a shovel and wheelbarrow back when you're done. Room needs to be mucked."

This was too simple. All of Worth's instincts were screaming at him. "Yannow, ya could jus' keep th' horse somewhere else. Won't shit up yer meetin' room."

"I could, but I think I would miss the company. She's a good horse," he stood, lifting his head and tucking it under an arm before walking down the short steps to the door in the back. "You have three levels of intelligence. Complete idiots, who cannot think past what they're told and simply accept things as they happen. Middle ground who know enough to ask questions, wonder, worry, fight back and look for new options. And the highly intelligent who have brains that prevent them from asking questions, already aware that the answers would be too much for them to handle. Too difficult to reconcile reality with their preconceived notions of normalcy." A hand patted the mare's neck, smoothing down her mane. "She is in the first category. Easy to train, quick to accept a master. Doesn't object to requests. A highly intelligent one would likely obey as well, once convinced it was for the best. I hate the middle ground. Too much work to make them fall into line."

"Uh huh. 's like pickin' up a chick inna bar. Go fer dumb 'n' sober or th' ones who think they're smart 'n' are wasted. Rational ones with a buzz are th' most work."

"You have," Conrad bit out, eyeing the ogres, "the strangest fucking analogies. I don't know if they make sense to anyone but you. Do you listen to yourself? Honestly."

Ly Erg opened the back door for the headless horseman with a slight bow. "Perhaps. We'll talk later. See if you remember anything useful. In the meantime, enjoy your new accommodations."

"Well don't that sound nice? They're gonna put us up somewhere real nice, sweetheart. That mean we're on our honeymoon already?" The back door shut and the ogres surrounded the man and vampire, two of them reaching behind the raised desk, hands returning with two sets of old fashioned and rather heavy looking iron handcuffs. "Well fuck me. Not that I mind hand cuffs or group sex per se, jus', yannow. Mebbe a li'l early ta start gettin' inta th' heavier stuff? At least invite yer hot girlfriends ta th' party if thass wot we're doin'."

"I hate my fucking life."

XXXXX

It wasn't the nicest set of bars he'd been behind, but he supposed it could be worse. He wasn't sitting in mud, at least, and there was a bench within the steel cage he and Conrad were headed towards. This was a lower security area of the police department - intended for the shop lifters and drunkards to sleep overnight while paperwork was filed. Something else was already in the cage, a bizarre, fizzling mass of shifting black and purple sparks. It was attached by chain to the bars and seemed to move, shifting like sand in a bottle, when the door was unlocked. Worth knew he and Conrad could try to make a stand here, but he also knew it was pointless, especially with how weak Conrad was at the moment. A long nap and time to think might actually be good for them. They didn't need to shove him in, he walked ahead of his own volition, Conrad close behind.

The electric creature shifted again, huddling deeper into the far corner while the ogres secured Worth and Conrad's chains to the bars of the cage. He was fairly comfortable, actually, and with some shifting would likely be able to pull his hands from behind his back. No reason for them to realize that, though. He could sit plenty still for the time being.

Ly Erg locked the cage, then walked to the nearest window, making a show of pulling back the curtains. The window itself had been blacked out, and the end of curtains began to rub at the paint, gradually clearing part of a pane. "It is dark now. It will not be in a few hours."

"Oi, so yer big plan's ter ash a vamp 'n' gimme a tan?" Shoulders shifted and he hoped it looked like he was uncomfortable.

"Not precisely. You are aware that the magical creatures are bound more by agreements than the humans have been. Our word is our bond." Scratch scratch, wipe wipe, more of the window was being cleared off. "I give you my word, your vampire will not die tomorrow or the next day. He will, however, grow increasingly burned." He stepped back and released the curtain. Most of the window was still blacked out, but there were plenty of areas that would be allowing light to enter the room once the sun rose.

Worth tried not to look at Conrad, unmoving several feet away and directly in the line of the window's eventual light show. "Uh huh. Knew we shoulda packed th' sunscreen."

Approaching the cage again, Ly Erg spoke. "When it becomes too painful and too much to bear, we will have information. We will move him elsewhere where it is dark and let him feed to regain his strength. Until then, I will continue to clear the window bit by bit. Think on that." He nodded slightly before heading for the door they had entered through, one a guard would no doubt be stationed at. "We can be patient. We can wait. His suffering does not move us to action."

Hands fisted behind Worth's back, his wiry body leaning forward. "An' if he don't talk? Seems a waste ta jus' let 'im go up in smoke on ya."

Looming tall in the doorway, bending slightly to make clearance, Ly Erg turned his helmet towards the cage a final time. "We do not expect _the vampire_ to talk, doctor."

The rest filed out behind him, leaving Worth to stare at the ceiling.

In the corner, the mass of high pitched darkness began to shift again, folding and unfolding itself like dough in a baker's hands. "Ffff...Fffancy meeeeting you hhheeeeeree. Thhhhhought you weren't thhhhhhhhe hero type."

He looked over then, frowning, searching the form for some sort of familiarity. "I ain't. 'm jus' here escortin' her royal highness." He couldn't remember seeing any sort of electric lint ball roaming the various places he had been in the past. Then again, he'd been less than sober on several of those occasions. "'m guessin' yer th' spy then? We know each other somehow?"

It lit up more, like heat lighting across a summer sky. His nose was hit with a faint but unmistakable scent of nothingness mixed with motor oil at the same time that a set of eyes made their way to the surface of the tangled mess.

"Well fuck me."

"Triiiiied," a soft, breathy word accompanied by a painful attempt at a laugh.

"I'm surprised you failed." Surly, Conrad had yet to look up from his slump on the ground. "He'll fuck anything with a pulse."

"Nnnnnnoooottttt..exactlyyyyyyy."

"Gotta at least have a nice ass, Connie," he replied, distracted, still looking at what had become of the succubus. "Christ, th' hell'd they do ter ya?"

"Creaaativeeee lot," more shifting, no smells in the air now but that of dust, long forgotten paperwork, and linoleum. "Ironnn...hurtsssss...prevents me frommmm...solidifying...Then, shhhhow fooood...deny fooood."

Memories surfaced, blended, added and mixed together. "They made ya watch people fuckin' but ya couldn't get any action."

He could feel it coming off of her, rolling waves of need, the desperate, hollow, yearning ache. He knew the feeling. He knew it all too well.

"Do nnnot trussssssst thhhhemmm...Thhhhey will...misssslead. Halfffffffff truthsssssss. Nnno ffffreedom ffffor him."

"Weren't plannin' on givin' 'em wot they wanted." Scowling, he wriggled, working his hands under his hips and then down his thighs. Hell of a lot easier when he was younger and still had a good range of flexibility in him. "Jus' figurin' out how th' hell we're gettin' outta here."

"Try a casket." Conrad rose on one elbow, then pushed himself the rest of the way upright.

"Coffin made fer two, buttercup? Jus' make sure it's extra long. I'll need th' leg room. 'N' th' dick room, too."

"You're disgusting."

"Jus' 'cause I don't mind talkin' 'bout our sex life in front a company? Hell," he raised his cuffed wrists, "she already knows we're inta th' bondage. What's it hurt ta let her know I'm hung? It's okay ta brag, sugartits, long as we ain't stretchin' th' truth."

"Of all the times you could pick to bring up our completely _non-existent_ sex life, by all means, Worth, make sure to do it now."

"Non-existent? Well, Christ, less fix that right now."

"You know what?" Skin was paler than normal, taking on a nearly translucent blue tone. Conrad kicked his feet out ahead of himself, the back of his head lolling on the bench. "If you manage to actually get us out of this, maybe I'll consider it."

"...Got a sneakin' suspicion yer only sayin' that 'cause ya think I can't do it."

"...Yessssssss," A breathy confirmation from the corner and Worth decided to shut up for the time being.

XXXXX  
It had actually been harder than he had expected.

Worth had lain on his back on the bench, thinking and waiting for sleep. The first few rays from morning had been muted and Conrad had already fallen asleep, a dead lump of cool flesh slumped more or less upright against the bench. Worth had managed to doze a few times, but kept waking up, wrists pinched by cuffs, concern for Conrad, light behind eyelids. As the day wore on and the light grew brighter, he was eventually entirely unable to sleep, stuck staring at Conrad's face and neck, at the patches of pink growing brighter and angrier.

"Heeee willll...surviiiive."

"Yeah. I know." Back ached, eyelids formed sandpaper curtains. "I know."

The succubus rolled, slid side to side. "No plansssssss for essssscape?"

"Thass th' business o' heroes. Ain't no hero. Remember?"

"Noooot even...for himmm?"

A sigh drifted through the doctor's chest, old dry leaves skittering across concrete. Conrad's skin was blotched with burns. "Would if I could."

"Thhhhiiink," she whispered. "You hhhhaaave tiiiime...uuuuuse it."

"Yeah," he said, a worn, impotent man, watching the bloom of rose as it slowly morphed to bitter wine.

XXXXX  
The first noise Conrad made when he awoke was a hiss. Exposed skin had all suffered in varying degrees, some areas a pale pink and others a deep maroon. He moved stiffly, and Worth didn't know if it was the ache of unmoved joints and starvation caused rigor mortis or the tight sting of burned skin. He didn't ask. He was too busy watching the headless horseman sitting at a desk. Asshole was carving an underripe pumpkin, serrated blade working its way through the fruit's greenish walls. There wasn't much Worth wouldn't give to have free hands and five minutes alone with him and that little blade.

"You're awake." The head spoke, "Good. I'll be with you shortly. Not as easy to work on these before they're ripe. A little softer and bigger then. Call me old fashioned but, well, a pumpkin isn't _really_ a pumpkin till it gets that orange hue."

Chapped lips tightened as Conrad wiggled himself a little straighter, red eyes opening and looking around the room. He was still drowsy. It took some time for him to come out of his sleep state - especially when he hadn't fed. Everything about him would grow increasingly sluggish and arthritic, he would sleep longer and more deeply, too. Maybe starvation was the vampire equivalent of growing old.

Gloved hands set down the knife and turned the pumpkin around to face the captives. "What do you think?"

"That depends," Conrad rasped, head looking heavy on his shoulders as it swiveled to gaze over at the pumpkin and The Rider, "if you were a five year old, I would commend you for not cutting yourself and making something of a passable semblance of a face. Triangles and circles and zig zags are somewhat advanced for children, so I wouldn't point out how lopsided the triangles are, nor would I mention that the proportions of the face simply don't work on a canvas of that shape and size.

"As what I assume to be an adult, I'm afraid I have to hold you to higher standards. Shall we examine this piece from a post-modern minimalism viewpoint? Sloppy at best, where are the bold shapes and angles? Did a drunken monkey fuck a pumpkin? Is it meant to be a contemporary piece? I suppose I feel about the same viewing that as I did when I first saw Serrano's Piss Christ Someone's simply trying too hard to be edgy and unique, but all he's managing to do is make most people roll their eyes. Or-oh, I think I see. Were you attempting cubism? Maybe that's it." He shifted slightly, tendons in his throat flexing. "Oh. Well. That's cute."

Funny thing how complete and utter silence makes a room feel so much larger than it really is. Also funny thing how it amplifies every sound that normally doesn't register or is overlooked. It was probably the wrong time for Worth to mutter "Never thought I'd get a boner hearin' someone talk 'bout art." Unfortunately, Worth never was very good at saying the right things at the right time, or, really, at just saying the right things in general.

Conrad spared him an aggravated scowl. Worth shrugged.

"Well." The horseman turned the head to face the holding cell, and then picked up the pumpkin itself, bouncing it lightly in his hands. "I guess it's a good thing I never fancied myself much of a studio artist. Always was more into the performance side of things." The horseman's boots thunked as they tapped against the desk. "Moving on. How is your memory holding up? Any improvements?"

"Yanno, I mighta remembered somethin'."

"Really?" Eyes jiggled, voice dripped with derision.

"Yeah. Weren't you stood up by some guy?"

"What?" Conrad's eyes narrowed as he redirected his face towards the doctor.

"I ain't s'good with th' American history but, there was some real big party, yeah? 'n' ya wanned ta go with some Ichibod bloke? Only he was standin' ya up fer some hussy 'n' so ya threw a li'l queen fit, started screamin' 'n' chasin' him, throwin' shit." His head tilted. He grinned. "I know, it kin feel real bad when that special someone don't wanna be with ya, but ain't it a li'l long ta be holdin' that grudge? 'm sure he felt real bad 'n' woulda made it up ter ya, letcha pick out th' design fer th' outhouse or sommat. Can't blame every handsome bloke ya see comin' through here fer one bad date. 'm sure if ya try real hard ya kin find that special someone."

"Ly Erg?"

"Sir?"

"I think it's time to let in a little more light."

"Yes, sir." A mild bow and then the demon strode to the window, rubbing off more of the protective black out paint.

The horseman deposited the pumpkin on the desk and stood, pocketing the knife and picking up the keys and his head. His movement was slow, deliberate, and that had Worth worried. The lock clicked and the horseman entered, stopping when he was beside Doc Worth. He set his head on the bench, inches from Worth's ear. Worth kept his eyes on the hands, even as the smell of rotting flesh, human and plant, wafted into his nostrils. "This is a bit of a treat, really. I do so much distance work that I rarely get to see a human's face up close. You can't appreciate it as well. Can't see pupils dialating, or the way you all start getting those small little beads of sweat, popping up all along your hairline like little mushrooms."

A finger brushed along Worth's forehead, leaving a sticky trail of pumpkin innards in its wake. "Or how you swallow. Peculiar thing. Human physiology. How it responds to fear. To pain."

When Worth had heard Ly Erg and the horseman approaching the room, he had wriggled his way into having his arms behind his back again. The moment the horseman's boot slammed into his windpipe and held steady, he wished he hadn't. It was hard to sneer with a foot on your throat and a knife approaching your face.

Chains jittered and rattled. Conrad was swearing. He couldn't do anything. Not in his current state. The succubus was in just as bad a position. Worth watched the tip of the blade as it descended, then disappeared from his vision. He felt it then, sharp along his cheekbone, just under his left eye. Cold where it first touched, then warmth and wetness in its wake. His vision was dimming, graying out as the knife trailed over the bridge of his nose. "Oh," the pressure on his throat lifted and he gasped, coughed, swallowed air. "I forget you have that breathing thing sometimes. I was going to doodle a penis on your face, but I doubt you'll hold still properly if I go in for seconds now."

Blood dripped down Worth's nose, splattered on his upper lip and trickled over his chin as his lungs worked overtime, eyes still fixed on the knife. He could try to trip the body, maybe bite the hand, something to free the blade. He had a feeling it wouldn't work, though, and even if it did, even supposing he managed to somehow nick the horseman's body, well, his BFF body guard was right there.

It didn't matter, though, the boot was pressing on his chest now, pinning him back against the bench. "Feel free to make some noise, doctor." This time the knife didn't near his face. This time the knife didn't slide across and split skin. This time it sunk into the meat of his shoulder.

It wasn't the first time he'd been stabbed. Previous experience didn't prevent this time from hurting like a bitch.

His face contorted, tipped forward. He grit his teeth just in time to bite back a cry, just in time to turn it from what it would have been into a choked groan. Eyes rolled up in his head much like those in the demon's face as the knife was wiggled back and forth before being removed.

Worse without it in. He wished it would have stayed there. Good Christ he was going to murder this asshole as soon as he was free.

"I believe I made my point. Ah, point. Good, yes? Ly Erg?"

Ly Erg stood silently in the cell doorway.

"Ah, never was one for humor that one. So serious about everything." The body approached Conrad and Worth found himself straining against his chains. Kneeling, the horseman's body held out the blade, crimson and shining. "You look as if you've had a rough day, fledgling. Why not have a snack?"

Conrad was snarling. "Take off these cuffs and ask me again."

"Mmm, no. No I don't think I will do that. You seem agitated." In the horseman's hand, the blade twisted slightly. "Tomorrow will be worse. You will blister. You may want to accept my offering. It will help somewhat."

"Fuck you."

"Lacking in originality, but I felt the sentiment was genuine. Shame. So wasteful." Standing, the body wiped the blade clean on the horseman's pant leg, then pocketed the knife. Scooping the head up again, the horseman walked out, handing the keys to Ly Erg as he exited the cell. "Well as long as the doctor doesn't bleed out tomorrow, I will look forward to speaking with you again."

Worth did his best to grit his teeth and glare at them until they had left the room. Once it was just the succubus, the vampire, and the doctor, he closed his eyes and allowed his head to drop forward, chin digging into his collarbone.

"Worth? Worth!"

He couldn't hold back a groan, equal parts pain and weariness before he replied. "Yeah?"

"I just...you're not passing out, are you?"

"Depends. Ya gonna take advantage of me if I do?"

"What? No."

He looked at his bloodsoaked sleeve. "Gonna take advantage of me if I don't?"

"Isss thissss the...joke? Wheeeere yoooouuu..." strained sounds and swishing as the jumbled mass of succubus twisted around itself, "cannot take advaaantaage...of...the willinnnng?"

"Mmmm," noncommital answer, mostly because Worth was working on drawing up the courage to slide his arms back around to the front again. It wasn't going to be fun when he did. Or maybe it would. Who knew?

"Look, I'm serious. You've...you're bleeding a lot. I don't...I don't know if you're going to pass out."

The doctor turned his attention from his shoulder to the vampire. Even in the low lighting he could see Conrad's pupils were blown wide, turning his eyes from red to black. He wasn't really looking at Worth's face. He was leaning forward, eyes jerking back and forth along the line of Worth's arm, mouth opened slightly, upper lip curling occasionally, tongue jutting against the back of fang. It was probably the first time Worth had ever thought Conrad truly wanted him. There had to be something to it in the way the succubus was writhing and making pitiful keening noises in her corner. She fed on sexual energy and she was wiggling just shy of a frenzy. Just his luck. The one time he could probably make some serious progress and even if he managed to get free, he wasn't sure he was even in the mood.

He sighed and rolled into the fetal position, breath catching as he worked his wrists under and out. It relieved the strain on the shoulder, and with luck the stab wound would be able to knit back together a bit when he slept. If he slept. Fingers prodded flesh experimentally and both he and Conrad hissed as a fresh spurt of blood dribbled down the doctor's knobby fingers. "Sorry, Connie. Wish I could share th' bounty but I can't quite reach ya."

"But you're...okay?"

Eyes shut. Christ he wanted a cigarette. Hell, he wanted a full pack at this point. Just sit there and chain them together, a noxious nicotine trail of distraction. "Yeah. Fer now. If he'd hit anythin' important I'd have bled out already. Dunno if it'll get infected, though. Not like he took th' time 'n' courtesy ta sterilize b'fore stickin' me. Think 'm gonna have ta take it up with management."

"I think he technically is management."

"Corporate then. Go ta th' news stations." Rubber soles scuffed as Worth stretched his legs out. "Tell 'em he kicked my dog. Ain' no faster way ta vilify someone than ta accuse 'em of puppy kickin'."

"The next time he's in here..."

"Next time he's in here yer gonna be covered in blisters an' runnin' on empty, Conrad." He snapped, scowling, angry and sick inside knowing what the future held. With a sniff, he tried to regain composure and continued. "Trust me. Tryin' ter attack won't do nothin'. Smear campaign's th' way ter go."

Slumping against the bench, Conrad tore his eyes away. "We really are going to die in here, aren't we?"

"Naw, well, mebbe me. But yer safe."

A snort. "Really? How exactly do you figure that?"

"Well...yer already dead, ain't ya?"


	3. Chapter 3

Time is a tricky thing. The more of it you want, the less you have. When you want it to disappear, it does everything possible to drag on and on, tiniest of sand grains slowly trickling piece by piece down the hourglass.

Best Worth could figure, an hour or two had gone by since they'd had their little meeting, reminding them that the Unseelie were assholes. He was basing that time guess mostly on the fact that he wasn't bleeding any more and the blood that was on him had dried. Also, his shoulder had started to throb, growing heat radiating out from the unwanted hole in his body. It was early, but he was putting his money on a nice little infection setting up shop. Just what he'd always wanted. He was lying still on his back. If he tried to move, his shoulder would bleed again. As much as he didn't like the idea of trapping an infection within, making sure he didn't lose too much blood was a more pressing concern for the time being.

Though he knew it was futile, he tried to analyze his surroundings for the umpteenth time, trying to spot something that could help them. Hell, wasn't like he had anything else to do. Wall directly behind him, Worth's weary eyes tracked along the windowed wall at his left side. Fake potted plant, windows, curtains. Next wall, the one directly across from him, filing cabinets and the desk with the leftovers of that asshole's pumpkin, mixing with the dust on long abandoned paperwork. Pumpkin innards strewn across an unused keyboard, drying in a sticky glob. Head turned to the right, towards Conrad. More filing cabinets, another desk, and the only door to the room.

He could hear voices outside of the door and then the twist of a knob. Visitors. Maybe for the succubus, but maybe for Conrad and the doctor. Sighing, he allowed his head to droop back down to the linoleum floor. Worth didn't even bother trying to wind his arms back behind himself. He didn't see the point and couldn't bring himself to care.

"W-why is th-there a p-p-pumpkin on th-the d-desk?"

Wait. He might care about that visitor.

"Nigel?" Conrad spoke, chains rattling as he tried to stand. "Oh, God, please tell me you're part of a rescue."

"Y-yes?"

Worth watched a long skirt dragging across the ground, moving to the front of the cage, catching glimpses of small hooves. "As much as we can be, anyway," Caiohme breathed. "We need to be fast."

"Ain't gotta problem with that," he shook his head as she approached him, "get th' other two first. Iron don't bother me."

Keeping himself by the cracked door, Nigel glanced back and forth between the hallway and the room. "H-Hey and R-R-Ram are w-waiting outside. H-Hanna is w-waiting on th-the bridge. Longfellow. J-just go straight d-down Cambrid-dge and y-you'll walk right over it."

Freed, the succubus began to shift, forming a much more familiar shape; long limbs, angular face, short, pale hair. Worth caught Caiohme's glance from the succubus to the doctor before she began to unlock the vampire's cuffs. Worth would be next in line for the unshackling parade. Working his way to his knees and then his feet, he grunted, staying hunched over, feeling dried blood cracking across his arm. "Right. Fine. S'we all holdin' hands while we walk down th' street?"

Conrad was released, but stood stiffly in place while the succubus took heavy steps toward the open cage door. "Th...Thank you," was whispered in a raspy, rumbling voice.

"Don't thank us yet. Still gotta getcha outta here. 'n' us, I reckon." The cuffs fell from his arms and until that moment, he hadn't realized just how heavy they had been. He looked at Conrad, still standing dumbly and walked over. "Oi. Lemme see yer wrists."

Tongue slid across chapped lips. Conrad was still fixated on the stab wound. Points for a solid attention span, he supposed. "Princess? My eyes're up here."

"Sorry. Just...Sorry." Belatedly, he lifted his arms and the doctor cupped pale hands in his, turning Conrad's hands over. He tried to ignore the pulling in his shoulder as he looked at the angry skin, peeling and lightly blistered just from prolonged contact with the metal. A quick look up to the others, Nigel still sweating and watching the doorway, Caiohme helping to support the succubus who was shifting again, a man with brown hair and a wide smile this time. "Right. Not sure we got th' time but it don't matter. G'on. Get ter it."

"To...to what?" It was asked with all the curiosity of a man who already knew the answer.

"I gotta wiggle a finger 'round in there 'n' open it back up? Ain't got time fer candles 'n' a movie here, Connie." He released Conrad's hands and used his own good hand to unbutton his shirt before pushing it off to the side, fabric sticking to his skin like flypaper. "Hell, who knows? Mebbe vamps got some kinda sterilizin' thing in their spit."

Another lick of lips, less nerves, more hunger. Conrad looked up, then placed his hands on Worth, one on his bicep and the other over his heart. "I haven't...stopped before. What if I can't stop myself?"

"Past my expiry date, anyway, sweetheart." Something flashed in Conrad's eyes and Worth felt his pulse quickening as his voice softened slightly. "If I don't stop ya, one a them will. 's fine. Ain't no way we're gettin' outta here with you fallin' over. C'mon."

Like water against rock, tension carved deep grooves in the edges of Conrad's lips. Fingers tensed on Worth's bicep and his arm automatically reacted, moving, puncture releasing a fresh trickle of blood. That was all it took before Conrad descended, mouth open, tongue making immediate contact with Worth's skin. The doctor inhaled sharply as fang grazed the edge of the wound, blood leaving his body and sliding down the back of Conrad's throat. They were both shaking slightly, he realized, and then immediately tried to forget it. It was probably just stress and exhaustion and nothing more. There was something hypnotic in the rhythmic tug of Conrad's mouth on his skin, making him feel somewhat relaxed, dulling the pain. Then again, maybe it wasn't the way his flesh was being worked and, instead, something actually in vampire saliva. Either way, he was definitely a fan.

Only tongue was passing over the wound now, swirling and sliding, cleaning the area thoroughly. Worth's head was still mushy in the best of ways, like a lazy early morning doze.

He looked at Conrad. Conrad looked back at him. By the door to the room, someone cleared their throat.

"Hate to rush you but, remember? We're working on borrowed time."

"Yeah. We're comin'." They were still looking at each other even though Conrad was no longer feeding. Some weird moment that would probably have lasted forever under different circumstances. "Right, Connie?"

Conrad's voice was measured, low, eyes hard. "Just as soon as you get your hand out of my hair, _sweetheart_."

What? He frowned, felt the moment breaking as the nerves in his good hand began to acknowledge the slide of cool hair between its fingers. Huh. Well, shit. "Just bein' considerate. Had a hell of a cowlick goin'. S'sorry ter have tried ter help." Ignoring Conrad's narrowed eyes, his hand slid free and he immediately fixed his shirt, moving out of the holding cell. "Think puppy's gettin' anxious. Might as well head out now."

Opening the door fully, Nigel cautiously led the way into the hall. They had to step over (or on, apparently goat feet gave you extra good balance) two dead sentry trolls on their way out and over to a fire escape stairwell. The still brown-haired succubus was breathing heavily and Caiohme was blushing. He wanted to get mad, but Worth had a feeling the shape shift was involuntary, much like the way a stomach gurgled when food was nearby. Too bad about Caiohme's taste. Worth had sort have been rooting for Nigel to win his Nanny. Regardless, once they exited the stairwell and hit the sidewalk at the side of the building, he moved in and nudged Caiohme away, wrapping his good arm around the succubus' waist. "I got her."

Nigel held up a hand, palm up, then walked by himself around to the front of the building. Just ahead of Worth, Caiohme took a breath, hands wringing. "We came right after a guard change, but since you and Conrad were taken in there, the shifts have been faster and more sporadic."

"So yer tellin' me wot?" He lifted the succubus a little higher, feeling her body turning lukewarm against his side.

"We walk as much as we can but we're taking a straight shot down this main road. If we're lucky, we'll manage to get to the bridge and Hanna before they sound an alarm."

"Been around long enough ta know we ain't gonna get that lucky. Whass th' back up?"

"We run with the hounds of hell behind us."

"You mean run _like_ the hounds of hell are behind us." Conrad carefully corrected.

She turned and blinked in the moonlight. "Like?"

"Right, fine. Fuck're we waitin' fer?"

A nod and Nigel returned along with Hey and Ram. "They were our backup, buying us time in the front of the building. We killed a set of guards in the front as well as outside your room. If any others showed up and found the front guards, they would kill them or try to hold them off to give us time."

"Sounds like a real well thought out plan," Worth grumbled and the group set out, walking as leisurely as possible down Cambridge Street. "I'm real sure we ain't conspicuous."

"W-we are hoping th-that no one n-notices," Nigel mumbled.

"Well they're gonna notice 'ventually." At least his shoulder wasn't bothering him too much. "How kin ya be sure Hanna's waitin'?"

"When y-you were cap-ptured, I sent word."

"Word, huh? Good ta know that neither snow nor rain nor heat nor complete breakdown in Western civilization kin keep th' postal service from deliverin' yer message."

"Lay off him." Ram slithered up beside the doctor and he felt the glare more than saw it. "This was his plan and it's working well. He didn't have to risk his life to get you out of there, none of us did."

"Uh huh." Eyes remained fixed straight ahead, at the asphalt and the dirt and the tiny plants forging a new life in the cracks of cement. "How long a walk we got here?"

"F-from th-the jail to Hanna? Ab-bout one mile."

From far below, Hey spoke. "Someone is looking."

"Yeah? Look back." He whipped his own head around, shooting a sneer across the street at what turned out to be an average, run of the mill ogre. Muddy shoulders raised, head dipped, and it quickly shuffled away.

Bangles clinked. "I don't think that will work every time and does anyone want to tell me why one of you is red and the other has dried blood all over him?"

"Me 'n' Connie had good bondin' time with th' boss. 'Parently he weren't too pleased with th' work we've been doin' 'round th' place." Christ the succubus was getting heavy. He paused to pull her a bit more upright. "What was it he said? Wanned ter make his point?"

"Ugh. Yes. If he wasn't a bad guy I'd think he and Hanna would enjoy each others' company."

Amusement fluttered in Worth's chest. "Did ya jus' call 'im a bad guy?"

"Yes. What else am I supposed to call him?" He was feeling better. Plenty of fluster and snark. "Nemesis du jour? Are we going for some sort of James Bond villain name?"

"Yeah. Less do that one. Wotcha gonna call 'im?"

"Oh for fuck's sake, it's not the time."

"Ain't no better time, Connie. C'mon," he was growing aware of more eyes on them. They were in a slightly more populated area now, and there was no way that word of their capture hadn't been making the rounds. "Hit me with somethin' good."

"I don't know. Pumpkinhead?"

"Naw, that ain't gonna work. 'Sides it's pro'lly copyrighted."

"I'm fairly certain copyright no longer matters."

"'s th' principle of th thing."

"Since when did you give two shits about that?"

A group had started to form, was now following them. He could see the bridge, but it was still some ways off. There was no way they were going to make it. "See, I was thinkin' somethin' like The Carver. Gets th' point across, makes 'im sound real menacing, 'n' relates ter his hobbies."

"Well then let's just call him DickFace."

Surprised laughter burst from Worth's throat. "Where th' fuck're ya gettin' that one?"

"Well you have Gold Finger who touched things and turned them to gold." The group was growing bolder, forming a thick semicircle around their sides and back. "He seemed preoccupied with carving a penis into your face."

Some mirth died down then. "Jus' how far did he get on that one?"

"Far enough."

"'m gonna kill 'im."

"Before or after the mob lynches us?"

He opened his mouth to reply when a horn sounded, followed quickly by another. Worth took a breath, and in one fluid motion, dipped a knee nearly to the ground on his next step, lowering his body far enough down to roll his right shoulder beneath the succubus. Rising, he lifted her up, carrying her across his shoulder now. As per usual, they might not get out of this one alive. As usual, he thought, finding it odd that he felt barely any pain when he used his left hand to pull Lamont's cross from around his neck, holding in a fist, he wasn't going down without a fight.

The moment was nearly upon them, Worth could feel it buzzing in his bones, sensed it as dogs sense an impending storm. They would keep walking. They would not look back. Moonlight races didn't like head on confrontations. They liked taking the back, thriving on the smell of fear that lifted from a human's skin like white dandelion puffs carried away within a summer breeze. The moment one of them turned around, that would be the spark that turned from a slow, pondering eternal stalking into an overwhelming frontal attack. Eventually someone in the mob would break rank, howl, leap upon them, just as battles beginning when a single nervous archer accidentally lets loose with a single, fumbling arrow. When that happened, they would run and they would fight. And it would happen. It should happen. It was what usually happened.

The only difference here was that the ground had started to shake and Worth could feel unease spreading not just from his little group of escapees, but also from the Unseelie following them. "Gettin' a feelin' we might not be dealin' with a mob after all, love."

The thunder rumbling up beneath their feet was growing stronger. Around them the mob was beginning to disperse. This time it was Worth who could smell their fear, musky and heavy like mildewed clothes. There was another scent, something salty and burning. The pressure from their backs and sides had eased enough that he looked around at the group.

"Ugh, what is that smell?" Thanks, Conrad. Took the words right out of his mouth.

Caiohme was shaking, nothing too new there. Hey chewed on her nails. Nigel's eyes were wide, sweat visibly beading on his brow. The Naga just looked like a person who'd caught their first whiff of a landfill.

"I th-th-think w-w-we sh-sh-sh," Nigel swallowed over his words.

Beside him, Conrad was scowling and turned to look. "Oh. God. What. What is-"

Worth looked as well, feeling the wind knocked out of him. The rest of the mob had spotted it as well and had dispersed, most heading into the buildings sitting along the roadside like a handy set of concrete and glass fencing pointing them along the path towards the bridge. It was large, about the size of an elephant, possibly even a bit bigger. It was skinless, all red, angry muscle and pale connective tissues. Veins throbbed, full of a black liquid. The body was similar to a centaur's, a human like figure sprouting up from the back of a horse's body. There was a horse's head sprouting from a short, thin neck on the front, oversized and flopping, smashing against asphalt, like a wild water hose. As it ran, the horse head flailed, connecting with a mailbox, crushing it like Worth had crushed beer cans under foot in his college days. Foam was dripping from the horse mouth, grayed out as it mixed with the bile blood streaming from nostrils. The man's head was missing a nose and ears, possessing only an oversized mouth and a single, crimson eye.

"Nuckelavee," Caiohme wheezed, stumbling as the ground shook.

Nigel helped her back up and exhaled a single word. "Run."

You didn't have to tell Worth twice. He pulled Conrad around by his shirt sleeve and threw him forward. Good thing about running for your life, adrenaline expanded muscle, quickened reflexes. It was as close to supernatural as a human could get. Hooves clacked, worn soles scuffed, scales slid. Lungs were screaming, burning, ground shaking. Worth fell, was yanked back up by pale hands. Conrad could go, could use his vampire speed to zoom across the bridge and get away. But no, stupid fuck kept hanging back, holding back, matching speed with Worth. Stupid, stupid _fuck_.

There was no way to avoid stumbling, avoid being slowed down, avoid falling. The ground was moving too much now, there was no way to balance or predict the movement beneath feet.

"It'ssssssssss gaininggggg."

Breath tasted of metal. Words felt like straw. "I know!"

A hiss and a shriek. He couldn't help but look, grimacing over his shoulder as he saw Ram in the horse head's mouth, body snapping as it was violently swung side to side. Goddamn it. One down, six to go. No time to mourn. Not now.

The Nuckelavee hadn't stopped chasing, had merely slowed. The quaking of earth was rattling Worth's brain, fucking up his vision. They were nearing the bridge, but he kept falling. They were all falling, all scrabbling. He kept trying to shove Conrad ahead with his left arm. He rarely made contact with much past the uneven scratch of asphalt grinding across skin. And that fucker. That stupid fucker. Kept stopping and picking him up.

The next sound he heard was best characterized as a fleshy whomp. It was followed by a scream, high, feminine, ending with the shaky bleat of a goat. He looked as Conrad pulled him back up by hands speckled with Worth's own blood and small pebbles. The head had swung, had flung Hey off to the side. Caiohme was going after her. Nigel was going after Caiohme. They were divided, distracted. They were fucked.

"Take her!" Worth screamed, trying to pawn the succubus off onto Conrad. "Yer th' fastest. Get!"

"What? No! You're going to just try and fight! You go! Get to Hanna!"

Talking. Time. Wasting. Nigel was tiny, surprisingly fast, throwing rocks with accuracy at the Nuckelavee's single eye. The head was still flinging about, body rearing up, hooves crashing down. They all fell.

"You take her! Get her over th' water!"

"No! Goddamn it, Worth!" And it was now that Worth first realized Conrad wasn't Conrad anymore. He was that set of white, pure angles sizzling under the moon. "Stick to the mission. Get her across. We'll distract that...thing. Stay here and you'll distract me and we all die. Fuck off while we all have a chance."

The ground moved again. Worth thought he might vomit.

"Connie," he looked at the vampire, unable to say anything else.

The vampire's right arm wrapped around Worth, pulling him up, pulling up the succubus with his left. Eyes were black slits. Close. So close. Scythe tipped hand soft as it smoothed over Worth's arm, onto his chest.

Worth found himself flat on his ass again and rolling. Asshole had actually shoved him. He wanted to yell, to scream at the back that was so far away, jerking and jumping, slashing at the skinless creature.

Fuck. Fuck him. What the hell was Worth supposed to do. He only had one option now. Get Hanna. Get reinforcements. Get back. Do it. Now.

Succubus over his shoulder, Worth ran. He didn't look behind himself. He just stared straight ahead, free arm pumping, eyes on the asphalt. The bridge was strewn with cars, but he was nearly there. Don't listen to the screams behind, to the howls, just keep running. Don't stop. Get to Hanna, get to a gun, get to something.

He did his best to weave through the abandoned vehicles. He coughed. His eyes were burning. Limbs were weak, spent, no more supernatural chemicals to help. He was just an old, mortal man ping-ponging his way through a mess of metal.

He fell. There had been no shake on the bridge. He just hadn't seen the suitcase. The succubus rolled away and laid limply against a tire.

No. He had to keep going. They had to. He forced himself up on raw palms and knees split by road rash. He stumbled over to her. "C'mon!"

Horizontal slit pupils set in red eyes met his as ivory fingers wrapped around his arm.

Then he saw nothing but light. Bright, blinding, startling. Back up. He leaned against the car as Hanna ran up, face hidden by the bright lights behind him. "Where's the operative?"

"Here! Take her! We gotta go back! Gimme," traitorous body coughed, limbs threatening to give out beneath him, "gun. Bomb. Tank. Wotever. He's still back there."

"What?" Confusion on Hanna's face, looking back and forth between Worth and the succubus' one fanged face.

Worth pushed Hanna weakly, stumbling his way past, headed towards the RV. When had it gotten so dark? There'd been a moon out before, hadn't there? He was walking sideways, bumping off of cars, gritting his teeth. There were weapons in the vehicle. He could use those. Get back to Conrad. Shoot that horsefaced fucker. Bridge needed to stop swaying. Head needed to clear. Needed.

The last thing he heard before crumpling into a blacked out pile of limbs was "Dude, you are bleeding a lot and, oh-"

XXXXX

Everything hurt. Everything. It was like being hungover but lacking in the fun memories from the night before.

The bed felt strange. Too flat. He felt beside himself. Fuck.

With effort he sat up. Blankets had been tucked in around his body, and their extra snug pull against his shoulder set his nerves on edge. He didn't have the energy to tear them off, needing to simply sit upright for a few minutes, waiting for his head to stop swimming. The sheets slipped from his body, puddling and folding across his lap. How much time had passed? Where was Conrad?

The last thought managed to drag him from their bed and to the door. He opened it and walked out, wincing at the bright sunlight in the RV.

"Where's Connie?"

"Worth. You should rest." Squinting he could make out the zombie sitting in the breakfast nook holding a paperback. "Please lie down. I can bring you some water and something to eat."

Fuck that. Where was Connie? "Fuck that. Where's Connie?" That probably would have been more forceful if he hadn't had to lean against the kitchenette counter when he said it.

There was too much quiet. "Please. Lie-"

"Please stop sayin' please 'n' fuckin' tell me." His upper lip curled, quivering slightly.

A breath. Zombies didn't need to breathe. Breathing was just an excuse to draw something out. "We do not know. He did not return last night."

Worth shook his head, weight falling heavier against the counter. "Fine. I'll go look."

"I do not believe you are in any position to look."

"Don't give a shit." He tried to push off from the counter. He failed. "Gonna look."

"I do not want to lock you inside your room or tie you down. But I will if I must."

Any other day and Worth may have taken a mild interest in seeing if that threat held true. Currently, he was of a one-track mind. "G'on 'n' try."

"Worth." The book in leather bound hands was set down upon the maps blanketing the tabletop. "You have a stab wound. It was flushed and sewn up. You lost quite a bit of blood. You are dehydrated. You likely have not eaten anything recently. You are barely holding yourself up right now with the aid of the counter. What resistance do you believe you can truly put up against anyone right now?"

God damn he hated logic sometimes.

"Wot's bein' done ter find him?"

"If you will sit down and drink something, I will tell you."

Sitting was probably a good idea. Mostly because he wasn't sure how much longer he could support himself standing. He slumped his way over to the bench and sat down. Nodding, the zombie stood and moved to the kitchenette area Worth had vacated. A clean glass was procured and a jug of water. "There are parties seeking along the riversides. Several water nymphs. They were invaluable earlier in passing messages from Nigel back to our camp. Allies are patrolling bridges."

The glass was set down and Worth picked it up, drinking, finding he was far thirstier than he had realized as his parched throat nearly choked on the water. "Thass it?"

"For now, yes. It is day. Conrad will not be doing much with the sun out. We are hoping Nigel, Hey, Ram, and Caiohme will show up in the meantime, if they are not hiding out with-"

Water finished, Worth dropped the glass back on the table, water droplets staining the top map. "Ram's dead."

"Ah. That is unfortunate." The glass was picked up, wet spots dabbed with the inner lining of the zombie's trenchcoat.

A spindly hand rubbed across Worth's eyes and forehead. "Yer tellin' me I'm th' only one who got out?"

"You and the succubus, yes. She is being tended to. As she gains strength she can provide us with valuable information, but she was quite weak. Fortunately, some were willing to help her regain her health."

"That where Hanna's at?"

"No." Jerky was being retrieved now, ziplock bag handed over to Worth who began eating nearly immediately. "He is currently passing on communications to the counsel."

"Yeah? Have him pass on this one."

"I do not believe raising that particular finger will convey necessary information."

"Beg ter differ."

XXXXX

Worth hadn't bothered to try and sleep, despite the zombie's many repeated requests. The tying down threat was only brought up again when he caught Worth attempting to hotwire the RV. Of course hotwiring had been his fall back plan. The original plan was to just start it up and drive off, but the zombie had easily avoided that by keeping the keys in his pocket. After being caught with his hands in the cookie jar, the zombie had relocated his reading spot to the driver's seat.

Nearing sunset Hanna showed up, looking frazzled and tired enough that Worth actually held back on his questions until the mage had been fed by his undead cuddle buddy. He watched him the entire time, though, stare set like a junkie waiting for his fix to cook in a spoon. It was enough to get Hanna talking before he finished his meal.

"Yeah, I don't know, bro. Trust me, I want to find him, I want to find them all, but," he swallowed thickly, "daylight doesn't make it super easy."

"Moonlight races get stronger come sundown. We oughta be hittin' 'em when they're weakest."

"Yeah but they also kinda have an enormous, yannow, army in there? Even if some of them can't take sunlight, a lot of them are totally fine with catching a tan. Nuckelavees aren't things to mess with if you can avoid it, and, Jesus, Ly Erg? _The_ Ly Erg? That dude's all Highlander style, the more he kills the stronger he gets, doesn't matter if it's daytime or night time or prime time or whatever. He is a dangerous motherfucker. You are massively lucky he didn't fuck you up."

"Yeah. I feel real damn lucky right now," was the growled response. "Wotabout succubus? Ain't she given ya any info?"

"Yeah, um, the Nucky and Ly Erg and the leader, man, a headless horseman, crazy shit. She has locations of some other strongholds, too, and the council is trying to launch some surprise attacks on them like, right now. Like you said, daylight and all. But like, no joke, the Redcaps have some serious clout and some crazy powerful dudes in their hierarchy." A sigh as the zombie refilled Hanna's glass in an unspoken request to drink more. Worth snatched a piece of jerky from Hanna's baggie chewing sullenly. "Fortunately we found some agents within the Seelie Court and are hoping to be able to just monitor them, feed some false information. Ugh, it's just, this has been building for years now and is pretty big and complicated. Boston sect wasn't even the biggest or with the most powerful dudes. Lotta seriously valuable intel. It's good we got her out."

"Uh huh, yeah, thass all that matters. Gettin' some goddamned succubus outta there." Jerky tore between his teeth and he hurled the bit still in his hands at the screen door. Calmly, the zombie retrieved it and set to cleaning it off. He couldn't remember the last time he'd wanted to knock the green fucker out as much as he did at that moment. "Glad we cleared that up."

"Dude, don't waste. We need food to last, okay? Look, we aren't leaving till we find Conrad." Puffy, sunken eyes looked at the doctor and the sincerity in their worn, blue gaze made him avoid looking back. "That's that. Word is that the city's been quiet. Like, seriously super ridiculous quiet. Either they're preparing for something, or they may have skipped town. We're going in tonight to search. No point in looking for a vampire with the sun high in the sky, you know?"

He did. It didn't make his body itch any less with the need to do something. "Fine. I'll take ya where I last saw him."

"Uhhhhhhh yeah about that. You know how I said we? I mean like, Zachariah and me and like, a big group. Noooooooot so much you."

"Bullshit."

"No more like people shit."

That threw him enough to squint. "Wot?"

"I dunno, just, not shit from a bull so I guess shit from a person? Cow shit? Is that the right opposite? Whatever, the point is you are fucked up. You had a hole in your shoulder that we sewed up as best we could. You have gauze all over your hands and knees and your chin and cheek? Looks like you got scraped across the pavement."

"Pro'lly 'cause I was."

"Yeah, well, see? If I was jacked up like that would you let me go anywhere important? Yeah, no," he pursed his lips, "I see you trying to think of an answer and the answer is no, you wouldn't. Stay back here. If Connie shows up, awesomesauce, you can set off a flare to let us know. How's he gonna feel if he comes back to base and no one is here, bro? Seriously serious. He needs a friendly-ish face to return to."

"I'm goin'."

"Really? Fff, yeah, okay, fine." The mage waved off a curious look from the zombie. "Go grab a gun and follow us. We're gonna walk for a few miles. I'm sure you won't have any trouble keeping up and preventing us from, you know, covering all the ground we need to cover. Also I bet you can totally shoot great what with just one working arm. Yeah, you won't be dead weight at all, bro."

Unlike with the zombie, he could remember times when he'd wanted to punch Hanna this much in the past. He opened his mouth to begin a bitchfest when there was a commotion outside. Hanna and the zombie were out of the door quickly, leaving Worth to grunt and groan his stiff legged way out of the RV.

A group had formed with Hanna's red head popping up here and there, weaving its way to the middle. The sun was casting pink and purple haze across the figures that were standing in a circle. Worth gimped over, grumbling and weakly shoving. The creatures moved, more out of respect for who he was than for the actual force behind his hands.

In the center Hanna was on his knees, speaking softly to a child. Dark hair framing blue tinted skin, a mouth ringed by flaking, dried blood.

Worth was on his protesting knees in a heartbeat, hand grabbing one of her shoulders. "Where's everyone? Wot happened?"

"That's kinda what I was asking," The mage grumbled, but said no more.

"I don't know. We split up."

"Whadda ya mean?" Panic was mixing with hope, creating a toxic sludge in his chest. "Wot happened?"

"Conrad and Nigel were attacking the monster, the one with two heads. You ran off with the succubus. The monster, it was breathing on us. It didn't bother me or Conrad, but it was bothering Caiohme and Nigel."

"Nuckelavee have toxic breath," Hanna supplied, interrupting Hey. "You know how they say some people have dragon breath? Yeah not joking with those dudes. It can kill crops and animals by breathing on them. Nigel and Caiohme breathe but you and Conrad, er, don't, so..."

"Oh," she blinked onyx eyes, hands folded together. "He hurt it a lot, Conrad, hurt the monster. It fell down and didn't move much after he poked through its eye with his fingers. But that's when everyone else came out. Caiohme and Nigel took me in one direction and Conrad went in another. We got cornered near the bridge. Nigel and Caiohme were trying to fight but...they were so weak. And I...I was hungry."

"Hungry?" The doctor wasn't sure what that had to do with anything, knees creaking, balance threatening to give out.

Her eyes looked up at him. "So. I ate them."

The group pulled back, murmurs zipping around like fireflies in a bottle. Apparently cannibalism wasn't looked upon highly among the Moonlight races any more than the Daywalkers.

"Hey, it's okay," the mage smiled weakly, patting a hand over her hair. "You were scared and um, just to be clear, who did you eat here?"

She looked at Hanna curiously, head tilted slightly to the side. "The Redcaps?"

"Oh, okay, cool, just, y'know. Clarification. It's important. Good stuff."

"They...backed off after I ate. We walked onto the bridge and they didn't follow us. We got inside a car and locked the doors. They're still there, sleeping. So I came here. Can you help them?" Eyes looked up again, jet black almond orbs in a round face. "I don't want them to die."

"Yeah, we'll help them. We'll go with you and we can bring them back here, okay? You're mega super brave, Hey, for serious. You did awesome."

Round face tilted down, nodding.

XXXXX

Worth waited in the RV, staring out of the windshield at the dark sky and overgrown buildings. It had been a prestigious university at one point, but was little more than rusted, crumbling memories now. The night was dragging on, each minute feeling like an hour. He had tried to read one of Conrad's ridiculous books, but couldn't concentrate on it. When a group had returned with Caiohme and Nigel that had been good, only because it gave him something to do. He wasn't as well versed in Seelie medicine, but he could dress wounds regardless as to the body they resided upon. The rest of it was mostly just making sure they had clean water, something to eat, and a relatively comfortable place to rest.

Groups slowly wandered their way back to camp one by one, and each time Worth had hobbled his way out to meet them, searching their faces for ivory skin and a snaggletooth. Each time he found only apologetic shakes of heads and averted gazes. The city had been abandoned. It was empty. No one was finding anyone or anything.

More than once Worth found himself staring blankly, brain asking what he would do if he lost his partner. If it was just Hanna and the zombie and the doctor, what would he do? What would any of them do? How would they travel? Who would cover his back? Who would he talk to? Could he keep sleeping in the bed now that it was only half full?

When Hanna returned at nearly five in the morning, eyes dull, back hunched, Worth limped out of the RV and walked past him wordlessly. He didn't know where he was going, and he knew all the moving around wasn't helping anything but fuck it. He couldn't, he just couldn't take any more of sitting around waiting for more of the same. He didn't need to hear "we'll try again tomorrow" he needed to hear an uptight faggot complaining about a new hole in his favorite argyle socks.

Worth walked around campus. He checked in on Nigel and Caiohme and Hey. He looked into the tent serving as a base of command. He wandered past the gathered groups of Seelie huddled around fires, cooking whatever the hell they were eating. He passed a small group of deer who paused in their grazing long enough to ensure he wasn't a threat before their faces dipped back down to dewy, overgrown grass.

Rounding the edge of a building, Worth leaned against the brick, hands in his pockets, fishing out a box of matches. He shook it, listening to the dry rasp of wood against cardboard. Methodically he pushed the box open and withdrew the sticks one by one, scratching them against the box, watching the flame leap up and then burn its way down, singing the tips of his calloused fingers. Once they burned out against his skin, he repeated the process. It should hurt more than it did, his brain reasoned dully, but Worth was having difficulty feeling much of anything at the moment.

He had three matches left. Matches were hard to come by. He should be rationing them. But what was the point? He lit another one, staring at the flicker of fire as it ate its way down the thin stick and something caught in the light. Something far off but coming closer.

His eyes narrowed, sore muscles in his back tensing. Enough moonlight to see in general. Not enough to see specifically. The deer behind him scattered. His jaw clenched.

There was another flash, and this time he shoved off of the wall. He knew that flash. Knew it as surely as he knew that, goddamn it, he had wasted those matches. Green, glinting, reflecting.

He moved forward as fast as he could and balled up all the worry and sickness and stress, using it to fuel the punch that cracked against Conrad's jaw.

Conrad was cupping his face where he'd been struck, eyes wide and confused, edging their way into anger. "Ow! What the fuck? Nice to see you, too, Wor-"

"What th' fuck was that? Huh? _Where th' fuck you been_?" He shoved Conrad's shoulder once, and then twice, feeling him solid and cool beneath his hand. "You stupid fuckin' _faggot_!" Fabric bunched in his grip. He continued to walk forward, forcing Conrad backwards. "Stupid goddamn idiot! Ya coulda _died_! _I thought ya died_! I been here all goddamn day sittin' 'n' waitin' fer someone ter bring back a pile of goddamned ashes 'n' here ya come jus' waltzin' right back in like nothin' happened? Fuck you! Fuck you, Conrad, goddamned _fuck you_!"

Worth stopped moving, standing in place now, eyes wide, shaking the vampire instead of forcing him back, staring down into the tapetum lucidum green glow of predator eyes, ticking back and forth as they looked at the doctor's face. He shook Conrad again, feeling his face twisting, muscles weakening. His tongue was thick, he couldn't speak, couldn't say anything else. All he could do was shake the vampire and stare at him, eyebrows wringing themselves above his eyes.

Conrad growled and fisted Worth's shirt in his hands. Faster than Worth's feet could keep up he shot forward, not stopping until Worth's back slammed against brick wall. The crack had been hard enough to send a jolt of searing pain all down the doctor's left side and he hissed, eyes closing. Conrad pulled him down so that their faces met and then it wasn't faces meeting but mouths, wet and demanding and hands weren't in clothes, they were in hair, clawing and pulling and gliding over skin. Conrad's fang was pressing, slicing across Worth's mouth, and it was sloppy and now he was bleeding, could taste copper in his mouth along with Conrad's tongue and he wasn't sure who was moaning and he sure as fuck didn't care.

The vampire pulled back and Worth nearly followed him, panting, hands cupping Conrad's jawline. Conrad's hands were on Worth's neck, fingertips still buried in the short, blonde hair at the nape of his neck. "That," he said, licking his fang, eyes sharp and emerald, "was for me saving your ass back by the bridge."

"Yeah?" Heart was slamming against ribs, fingers were quaking. The corner of Worth's mouth tilted up. "Well ya still owe me fer California."

A dark eyebrow raised behind dusty glasses. "And you still owe me for the skinwalker."

"Guess this might take awhile then."

"I guess so."

And for the first time in a long time, Worth truly felt alive.


End file.
